


When We Met

by Malind



Series: Demons and Angels [1]
Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Death, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Murder, Suicidal Thoughts, Terrorism, Time Travel, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-14 16:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 68,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5750314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malind/pseuds/Malind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fate said they'd never know one another beyond the end of a sword and gun. Science had other ideas. A time travel fanfiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Body's Desire

**Author's Note:**

> This story is not DoC compliant, although I do take bits from it.
> 
> Disclaimer: The Final Fantasy VII characters and universe are owned by Square Enix. I make no profit from this fanfiction.

Sephiroth blew air out through his teeth, a miniscule release of energy to help himself hold back his real reaction: an infantile fit of frustration.

The ceremony was only days away.  It seemed like the event was all the Second Class SOLDIERs talked about. So much so that, over time, their eager, loud conversations had become overly repetitive and, well, annoying. The fact that the Second Classes took such great pleasure in the whole idea of becoming First Class SOLDIERs...

He just couldn't find the will to be happy for any of them, including his two friends who sat with him at the wooden table that rocked every time any of them touched it.

Blowing out a sigh this time, with half-lidded eyes, Sephiroth looked through the vague cloud of smoky air and at Angeal and Genesis.  They were the only people he'd bothered befriending, after a bit of unwillingness on his part and more than enough dragging on their parts.  All after failing at his one and only relationship he'd ever dared to have.

Friends with no strings attached...

The idea was still foreign to him. Nonetheless, together, they'd been through a lot: the sleepless nights, the miniscule amount of pay for laying their lives on the line, the assignments that bordered on being mercenaries. 

However, the rest of his life, the tortuous tests and training from emotionless people that spawned from his earliest memories and continued to that day, the bloody and profitable war and the resulting, very real despair, he'd suffered alone. 

He wished Angeal and Genesis wouldn't want any part of SOLDIER, of Shin-Ra. He wished they'd run and save themselves from this hell.  But he knew they would follow orders. He knew they would do it willingly.  And he couldn't, rather, had no right to stop them.

Sephiroth frowned, mostly internally, at his friends' oblivious behavior. Admittedly, being a First Class _would_ give them a certain amount of status and some perks. However, it wouldn't give that much of a pay increase.  But, he supposed, it would be better than nothing, especially for Angeal who'd come from a less than optimal upbringing. Genesis, on the other hand, had been raised in richness so Sephiroth knew whatever motivations he had weren't absorbed in money.

As for Sephiroth's own motivations...

_Well, why do I listen? Obey? Stay?_

He knew why, but he didn't like the reason.

The fact was: He'd been raised in the Shin-Ra Company; He knew nothing else; He was nothing else. Even the world knew that. Surely the world knew that.

However, unlike Rufus, the future president, Sephiroth didn't have the name or status of a Shinra. He wasn't even an employee like those around him. Rather, he was owned by Shin-Ra. Every passing moment following their often bloody commands only proved that fact true.

_I'm nothing but a pet._

Angeal's growling voice caught Sephiroth's attention as a bottle hit the table, "Come on now, it wasn't that funny."

At the words, Sephiroth realized he'd been darkly smiling at his own ill humor. The smile turning into a smirk, Sephiroth said over the din, "No. It wasn't," even though he had no idea what Angeal and Genesis had been talking about at that point.

Then he closed his eyes and pointlessly sucked down another swing of alcohol from his own amber bottle. Thanks to science, it wasn't physically possible for him to get drunk, and he despised the taste of alcohol. But that didn't stop him from trying to drown himself on occasion.  With the considerable number of empty bottles on the table and some already removed, maybe that night would finally be his night. The bar must have loved SOLDIERs in general and their high tolerance.

Sephiroth heard Genesis' smile as the man purred, "Calm down, Angeal.  Sephiroth isn't even listening to us. He has more pressing matters to worry about. Don't you, our glorious future General?" 

Just underneath the words, Sephiroth heard contempt but chose to ignore it.  Again.

Nonetheless, aquamarine eyes lifted to unintentionally glare at Genesis, although not for the contempt. Rather, he didn't want to hear the word "General" and all that it entailed. Months before, the word wouldn't have bothered him so much. Now, the word made him want to run.  Forever.

The urge to run wasn't from the fear of battle. He had none.

It wasn't from the fear of commanding others. According to the world, he'd been born to do it. And, he could admit, he probably had been.

No, the urge to run wasn't something most others would have understood.

What made him want to run was having no real choices, something everyone, even Angeal and Genesis, probably took for granted. The lack of a choice shoved itself more and more into his face as he recognized the depth of corruption that permeated every inch of the company that basically owned him.

On top of everything that made his life hell, the memories of Wutai, of dying people's screams, even the innocents, made him physically ill. Yes, he'd changed the tides of the war with his command and his sword, but it was at a cost those around him didn't seem to care about. In fact, the two men sitting across from him seemed to idolize him for it.

How could he ever make Genesis and Angeal understand?

The future General slumped farther into his chair and, tilting his head back, let his gaze drift towards the ceiling. But during that process, he couldn't help but stop on crimson eyes that stared back. He blinked to make sure he was seeing what he was seeing.

Outside of his friends and his superiors, people rarely started him in the eye.  Out of reverence or fear or something else, it didn't really matter why since the end result was the same.

Sephiroth straightened a bit, finding he couldn't peel his gaze away. The other man clearly wanted something from him.

The heat there...

Pursuing that heat, Sephiroth let his gaze waver elsewhere over the man's evocative face, drowning its angular beauty, over raven hair weaving over wide shoulders and a narrow frame, over the nearly form fitting clothing revealed under a long blood red cape. The whole of the stranger was disturbingly, well, hot, especially with its lurking strength. 

Sephiroth felt himself respond to the whole of the stranger.  But at the same time, he fought the urge to hope the stare was for something it probably wasn't, never mind the heat in the stranger's obliging stare. After all, he hadn't come to the dingy bar with the intention of screwing some stranger, and especially not to make a new friend.  He'd come merely to lose himself for a while in some conversation and alcohol, as much as he could, anyway.

Swallowing, Sephiroth sat up and leaned forward to hide his groin's growing awareness. Barely beyond his teenage years, the First Class SOLDIER was quite tired of his body's urges.  He was quite tired of his emtotions in general, especially hope, because all of them only caused him pain, it seemed like.

Really, Sephiroth avoided relationships in general because he knew he lacked certain social skills no one had bothered to teach him. The friendships he had with Angeal and Genesis were difficult enough to keep smooth. The last thing he needed in his fucked-up life was the complications of a physical relationship, and especially something more, his previous failed one being proof of that. He just wished he could convince his body of that.

Merely screwing on the other hand, well...  He'd made quite a few exceptions in the last few years. 

But, again, he'd had no plans to that night, not with the ceremony so close.

A ghostly shadow lined in blood, the stranger pulled away from the wall and walked towards the door. The other man's gaze never left the SOLDIER's own, beckoning him to follow.

Sephiroth stared after him, feeling his heart pound, his body insisting he follow as well.  Then he shrugged mentally. Perhaps, whatever the man wanted, Sephiroth wanted to oblige.  Maybe. Sephiroth knew if he changed his mind later, he could always walk away. There wasn't a person alive who could stop him.

...Then again, maybe the alcohol _was_ affecting him.

Vaguely aware he was interrupting Genesis and Angeal's conversation when he stood up with an, "Excuse me for a moment," Sephiroth walked after the man walking out the door. He heard his friends' dim voices and chuckles behind him but didn't let them stop him. He could deal with their comments later.

When he exited the bar, he saw a red billowing cloak turn the corner into an alleyway. Silver brows twitched upwards. Apparently, the other man wanted to get right down to business.

In the back of his mind, Sephiroth knew he could have been walking into a trap. His training wouldn't let him completely dispel the possibility. But swimming in his own confidence, he also knew he could handle anything this man could try.

Turning the corner himself, ready to get down to business himself, Sephiroth stopped short at the new look in the man's eyes. Gone was the boldness. In its place was something that resembled fear. However, it wasn't a trembling fear. It was... more like the man wanted to spill his every dream, fear, and lust onto Sephiroth but wasn't sure how he'd take it. The notion completely turned the younger man off. He had no interest in soothing whatever inner demons this man had. He had enough of his own to deal with.

Sephiroth realized then that he'd made a major mistake in following him. As if he hadn't already known it was a mistake from the moment their eyes met.

He turned to leave. In a split second, metal hit the pavement as the man behind him took a couple of long steps forward and metal clamped and squeezed around Sephiroth's upper arm and made him cringe involuntarily at the resulting pain.

"Wait." The stranger's voice spurted out as urgently as that "fear" had. Apparently, the man wasn't afraid of bodily harm.

Sephiroth did indeed stop and looked at the claw gripping him, probably bruising him through his jacket. The thing was a nightmare, but he'd seen far worse. Then he looked the other man back in the eye in the dark alleyway.  Now that they were so close, he realized how red the man's eyes were, blood red.  How he hadn't noticed it before...   Those eyes startled him, adding yet another unwelcome emotion that night.

Swallowing down his unease over too many things, Sephiroth voiced his displeasure with a bit of sarcasm, saying, "You want me to wait?"

Those crimson eyes disappeared under long lashed lids. The claw released him as long raven hair fluttered with a small shake of the man's head.

When the other man did no more to respond, already impatient, Sephiroth growled, "Wait for what?"

"I..."  The man shook his head slightly again before looking back at Sephiroth.  "I'd thought this..."

Sephiroth figured he'd take a stab at it with, "Would be easy?"

The man frowned before a slight, though clearly exasperated smirk appeared. "Probably."

 _Hmm, maybe he_ is _just looking for a good time..._

The alcohol working its blessed, delicate magic again, Sephiroth looked over the striking man's face and smirked back. "It doesn't have to be difficult."

The sudden step back made Sephiroth blink.  This time, the older man more grimaced than frowned. "I-I'm sorry.  You misunderstand.  My intentions aren't..."

Sorry? The man didn't have to be sorry for wanting a good, quick fuck.

Then again, _had_ Sephiroth misunderstood the situation?

And why the hell was his head spinning so much?

The SOLDIER shook his head a bit, trying to clear his thoughts, confusion shrouding his alcohol-slowed mind. He tried to retrace everything that had happened in the last few minutes. He remembered the stare and what had appeared, at least, to be desire. The fear?

And what _were_ the man's intentions, if not to fuck?

Sephiroth shook his head again, still confused and newly irritated.

Admittedly, he'd been a little too willing to have a quick rut with the beautiful man, but the stranger's one-sided, convoluted emotions had already managed to drown their majorly short relationship to death.  There were way too many emotions to make the situation merely a fling, something the other man apparently didn't even want anyway.

And if this man couldn't offer him that simplicity, then he was done with him.

"Whatever this is, it's over." Sephiroth turned and started to walk away, way more than done with the other man.  Like any human being, he didn't particularly enjoy his body getting all worked up for nothing, even if he'd done it to himself.  Not bothering to turn his head, he added, "My friends are waiting for me," as if those two offered a shield against the raven-haired man and his unwelcome nature.

"Sephiroth."

The single, charged word, the hard, demanding sound of it, all of that made Sephiroth stop. Far too many people knew his name, so it wasn't strange to hear another speak it, but hearing his name on this man's lips...

That word, the way the other man had said it, it all also sent a wave of involuntary heat through him.  He looked back and the intensity in the other man's face forced that heat to burn Sephiroth's body.  Again. 

_Damn this man to hell if he does another 180 on me..._

"This isn't why..." The stranger seemed to be trying to convince himself as well as Sephiroth with the cut off sentence. The man's head shook yet again as he clearly attempted to work things out in his mind.  But color had also come to the man's cheeks, tinging the unnaturally pale skin pink with the sign of arousal.  And, if Sephiroth wasn't mistaken, a certain something was getting hard under the man's pants.

_God, the guy thinks too much...  Who the fuck cares about 'why'?_

Sephiroth's body seemed to think something similar as his needy cock filled to strain against his closed, abrasive jeans.   But he wasn't about to take the length out until he was sure it was needed.

Eyes closed, the other man sucked in a shaky breath and then said, his already deep voice a low growl, "If you really want to do this..."

That voice sent an enjoyable tremor up Sephiroth's spine.  The pause gave him a chance to picture exactly what they'd be doing.  The vision was too delicious, and his dick twitched. 

After a couple of long seconds, the stranger continued with, "You should know who I am first. You'll probably change your mind."

_Like I really care who you are.  I'll probably never even see you again._

Sephiroth's heat and alcohol drowning his body, making him dizzy, Sephiroth decided the prior words were enough of a welcome step in the right direction to act. He shook his head and stepped back towards the man, saying, "I honestly don't care who you are. I don't want to know."  He let a hand reach out and touch the man's chest with his fingertips, drawing a hiss from the stranger that made Sephiroth's skin goosepimple.  The man's heat underneath that thick cloth...  It mixed so well with his own.  "I want other _things_ from you."

The raven-haired man's breaths grew as heavy as Sephiroth's at their closeness.  It was rare for the SOLDIER to be next to someone of the same height. Granted, the other man was just a touch shorter, but not enough of a difference to make kissing him difficult.  But Sephiroth wasn't sure at that point he wanted to kiss him, even though he did love to kiss. He was quite afraid of making this too personal again and ending it before it really began.  Again.

Dilated crimson eyes searched Sephiroth's face and then there was an obvious, blessed acceptance in the other man's face that showed as determination. What he could have accepted, Sephiroth didn't know or care about.  What he did know was that the other man wanted to fuck him as much as Sephiroth wanted to return the favor.

The beautiful man growled, "Fine."

His newfound temporary lover grabbed the SOLDIER's upper arms, and then pulled him over and slammed him against the brick wall of the building now behind him, knocking the air out of him. The man was strong, disturbingly so. He was definitely not normal. The crimson eyes and claw should have told Sephiroth that but he'd taken them for granted. The realization that he didn't know exactly what he was dealing with, it pounded his heart even more, making blood drown a specific region of his body.  A moan flowed from his throat.

Despite the aggressiveness though, the stranger took his time bringing his face close to Sephiroth's as his red eyes continued their search.  The man took his time in bringing his lips to Sephiroth's own.  It was as if he wanted to treasure every movement.  Why?  Sephiroth had no clue.  He also didn't have that kind of patience. 

Sephiroth thrust out his hips, trying to gain needed traction against the other man's groin, but the man somehow easily avoided him and gripped his arms harder, holding him solidly in place as Sephiroth growled and embarrassed himself with his blatant show of need. Sephiroth thought for a brief moment to test the man's strength but instead forced restraint on himself and let the man do what he wanted.  Only because the refusal turned him on even more.

The mouths caressed one another and made Sephiroth painfully harder because he could practically taste the other man's barely restrained, but intense passion on his temporary lover's lips.  Sephiroth raised his hands to grab what he could of the man's clothing with the other man still restraining him, wanting to devour him, not wanting to let go. The man shuddered and Sephiroth responded with one of his own.  It was almost as if...

As if they were making love.

This was so, so not what Sephiroth had been expecting when he'd followed the stranger outside minutes before.

In the back of his mind, thoughts swarmed: Perhaps this passion was all in his head. Well, it had to be.  This man didn't love him.  Right?  He couldn't.  But maybe he thought he did.  Perhaps this man was another one of his "groupies," as his friends affectionately called them.  But Sephiroth knew could deal with that.  He could.  Just fuck him and leave him.  Like he always did with these men. 

...But perhaps there was far, far more going on here than he wanted to be, than could have been possible.

The kiss deepened, and he lost the ability to care.

Especially when the other man's normal hand suddenly worked on his jeans--proving to Sephiroth that the man had as much desire as Sephiroth did--opening them, partially exposing his length. Sephiroth sucked in the man's breath when the hand pulled him out with quite a bit more than a gentle tug. Sephiroth wasted no time in thrusting his hips.  The cool night's air added a delicious contrast to the heat of the firm, demanding grip that jerked up and down his cock.

The other man suddenly pulled back, Sephiroth's mouth following after, and hissed, "Fuck."

Sephiroth wholeheartedly agreed and resigned to thumping his head against the wall behind him when he couldn't kiss the other man again, not with the metal claw still restraining him.  Out of Sephiroth's mostly closed eyes he watched the other man watch his own vigorously stroking hand.

Living in that moment for now since it felt so fucking good, he wondered briefly what it would feel like inside of the other man, but when the raven-haired man forced him to turn around with a clear urgency, he knew that wasn't his temporary lover's intention.

Putting his forearms against the wall's rough surface, Sephiroth relinquished control without another thought and lived in their desires. After all, still unsure of which he preferred, it excited him to be filled, as well as to thrust himself inside another.

The stranger yanked Sephiroth's somewhat loose jeans down over his ass before letting them fall to catch on Sephiroth's slightly bent knees. He felt his hair being swept to the side and then heard the other man spit. Sephiroth turned his head and rested the side of his face against the chilly brick wall, his eyes not really seeing the alleyway's entrance just a short distance away. The tang of mold and the scent of the man behind him tantalized him as he breathed in heavily and lost himself with wet, demanding fingers probing his hole. With shaky breaths, he pushed his hips back and willed himself to accept the intrusion, the delicious burn those fingers created.

Anyone walking past would have seen them, right after hearing them, their prized First Class SOLDIER being fingerfucked by some random man in a crowd. He pumped his hips at the thought, at the fingers probing him, the sensitive head of his erection hitting the bricks. His eyes clenched shut and he sucked in a hiss of a breath and then groaned loudly.

"Shhhh," his lover purred at his ear, his claw clamping over one of Sephiroth's shoulders, retraining him again, but Sephiroth couldn't stop his throaty moans, not even to please his temporary lover.  Despite the hushing though, the other man then groaned as well, clearly loving the sounds Sephiroth made, as he yanked his fingers away and worked at his own pants.

Was the older man wary of being caught fucking him but nonetheless too aroused with the idea to stop, as aroused as Sephiroth was?  Either way, thank everything in existence he didn't stop.

The man spit again. Sephiroth felt the rhythmic movements in the man's arm holding his shoulder as the man behind him slicked up his own cock. The slippery sounds aroused Sephiroth even more.  He didn't think he could possibly get any harder without busting something.  In turn, Sephiroth jerked his hand down and grabbed own erection, jerking it off it with abandon, willing himself to open for the thick head he felt pushing against his hole. He hissed appreciatively at the hot stinging sensation that burned from his entrance to the rest of his body. 

The man thankfully had as little patience as Sephiroth did.  Quick, urgent thrusts worked the whole length inside of him within seconds.  Through it all, Sephiroth hissed, "Oh fuck, oh fuck," over and over again.

He loved the man's cock in him. He loved being used by him. His whole life he'd been used. Before he'd lost his virginity to a different man, he'd thought that he'd have fought such an intrusion to the end of his will, that being fucked would have been the last straw before his rage exploded onto the world.  But after the first time, he knew he loved being fucked. This time was no different.

Already, he was so close to coming that it was all he could think about.  His hand pumped himself, making the skin feel raw but he didn't stop, wouldn't have stopped for anything.  Even if the other man had pulled away, he wouldn't have stopped at that point.  His body tightened with his impending release, clamping down on the cock inside of him.

"Fucking hell."  The man behind him shuddered almost violently before coming to a complete stop and grabbing Sephiroth's hand, forcing him to stop.  The grip on his shoulder tightened, sharp tips surely drawing blood, making it a bit difficult to breath as he was pressed hard against the wall.  If he didn't have bruises when he walked away from this...

Breath heavy against Sephiroth's ear, the raven-haired man growled, "I want you to say my name when you come."

Frustrated, wanting more, wanting to come so unbelievably badly, Sephiroth barely understood him, but he did manage to and nodded slightly, the side of his face scraping the bricks. Then the obvious hit him:

 "What-what's your name," he panted between the renewed, but too slow, almost teasing thrusts.

"Vincent," he breathed before he bit at Sephiroth's jaw.

The hand thankfully released Sephiroth's hand and Sephiroth closed his eyes and lived in the thrusts that quickly strengthened and shoved him against the wall over and over again. A chant in his single-minded thoughts, Sephiroth said the name over and over again in his mind until it reached his lips.

When the sound was loud enough for the other man to hear, Vincent pulled him away from the wall so that he could wrap his arm around Sephiroth's chest, pulling him closer, basically hugging him. Vincent kissed his cheek, jaw, neck, clearly wanting to devour him. At that moment, Sephiroth would have let him.

The name still a chant on his lips between the pants and the moans, he came hard by his own hand. At the escalated sound, Vincent buried his face in his neck and came inside of him after two more final hard thrusts.

Time seemed to stand still as they stood there.  Sephiroth's mind seemed to have no ambition to come back to him.  A moment later, Vincent urged him forward again with a gentleness that definitely hadn't been there a short time before, and Sephiroth rested his arms back against the wall.

"Fuck off."

The sudden explosion of Vincent's voice made him jump slightly. He opened his eyes, momentarily confused, but then saw and heard the traces of escaping feet and had to wonder how much the people had witnessed.

The high coming off, his eyes searching for more prying eyes, unwelcome sudden awareness hitting him hard, he hissed when Vincent pulled out of him.

God, he hated this part of a good, quick fuck: reality.

In the next motion, his lover pulled up Sephiroth's pants, tucking him inside, and fastened them blindly. He heard motions behind him, presumably Vincent taking care of his own length, and pulled away from the wall, straightening and turning around.

Sephiroth was about to open his mouth to say some kind of bland, "Thanks, see you later... Not." Really, any kind of dismissal to get out of the situation would have been good enough for him, but the look on Vincent's face gave him pause.

Then the older man covered him again, pressing him against the wall, kissing him with a hunger that should have already been sedated. Sephiroth barely kissed back, confused and badly wanting to move away. This felt... just too personal and he had no idea why it would have been personal.

...Well, except for the fact that Vincent had apparently come out here wanting to talk to him, not fuck him.  And perhaps the reasons laid there. 

God, he didn't want it to be personal.  Couldn't people just understand that?

After a few moments, his unease only growing, Sephiroth finally slithered away. Surprising him a bit, Vincent let him go, watching him retreat as much as Sephiroth stared back, almost ready to attack, if the need had been there.

"My friends are waiting for me," Sephiroth attempted to reassert from earlier. He knew his voice didn't sound as confident as he'd wanted it to be, but with the man looking at him in that way, it was hard to find his voice. Nonetheless, despite his confusion and all the other piled up emotions in his scrambled brain, a "relationship" with this man was as unwelcome at that point as it had been before.

Vincent shook his head, seeming to acknowledge that the SOLDIER was about to bolt and there wasn't a thing he could do about it outside of physical restraint. Then he smiled softly, although the expression leaked sadness. "This isn't over, Sephiroth. Even if we want it to be."

The words should have left Sephiroth indifferent, or at the most chilled him, but instead they heated him. He side-stepped and then turned away from Vincent, moving farther away from the other' man's heated body, the dark night air chilling him until he felt like ice. Over his shoulder, he said, "This is over if I say it is."

And he knew in all his being that the words were untrue, even as he spoke them.


	2. Glimpse of the Future

Smirking, Genesis raised a brow and tapped his cheek. "You have some dirt on you."

Already self-conscious from when he'd stalked away, or perhaps fled, from a man named Vincent, Sephiroth rubbed at his cheek as he plopped back down in his hard wooden chair. Despite the hardness of the wood, the thing groaned in protest, declaring its limited usable days left. When he pulled his hand away, he saw dirt and faint traces of blood.

"I hope he wasn't too 'hard' on you," the other man continued, sarcasm tainting his voice.

Angeal's smirk matched Genesis' but at least the raven-haired man had the decency to look away at the joke. The First Class SOLDIER knew Angeal would never purposely try to hurt him. The man would never hurt anyone, if he could help it. However, that didn't mean the man didn't have a sense of humor.

Why again did he have friends exactly?

Sephiroth slumped back in his chair, any hardness at his groin thankfully gone. He let his face be dirty. Washing it in an act of desperation to get rid of the evidence would probably only bring them to rag on him more than they already were. As he wiggled a tiny bit at a different wetness, he reminded himself that his ass was rather dirty as well, but he wasn't going to attend to that particular part either since he'd already sat down.

The silver-haired man tried to distract himself, from the stinging in and on his cheeks, with his friend's conversation that thankfully went on to matters that had little to do with him. But, despite the desire for diversion, he couldn't get the unwelcome man's face out of his mind and found himself looking to the door again and again to see if he'd reenter. Thankfully, regretfully, Vincent never did.

The whole of the situation disturbed him to no end. He shouldn't have gone out there. It was stupid. He was stupid for doing it. He should have known better. He should have learned his lesson before. Things were never as simple as he wanted them to be. Life would never be simple for him, unless someone considered fulfilling orders to be simple. But even the orders had intended and unintended consequences.

He tried to picture himself as a farmer or a beggar, doing the same routine every day, merely trying to survive and not bringing the world to some kind of profitable and controlled end. He shook his head at the fantasy his mind produced. 

No, life would never be that simple for him, not when the world knew his face and his position. The world needed him, even if some of it would have preferred him dead.

Crimson eyes forever looking at him in his mind, again interrupting the conversation, unable to help himself, he blurted out, "Do either of you know that man. He-he said his name is Vincent."

"The one in the red cloak you were having the staring contest with? No, sorry," Angeal said, his gruff voice a bit raised to be heard over the racket in the bar.

Genesis shook his head and smiled, leaning forward. "We could find out who he is, if you like."

Sephiroth huffed out a half-laugh. "No, I'm not that interested."

"Sure, you aren't," Genesis purred. "But, you know, even heroes need to be selfish sometimes."

The silver-haired man shook his head, smirking at the tone that urged him to be disobedient. At that moment, he didn't need the temptation. 

But then alarm crept in on him. He could feel this interest from Genesis was different from his other jokes and urgings. Perhaps Genesis suddenly recognized this very real vulnerability. The idea made him cold. He couldn't be vulnerable. He had to be strong or the world would swallow him whole. He couldn't show weakness, even to his friends. Especially not to his friends. There were enough people in the world who manipulated him. He didn't want his friends to manipulate him as well. His eyes closed as he tried to calm himself down. He needed control. He needed...

"I need another drink."

 

 

 

The days went by and eventually he fell back into the whole of his life. The threat, that Vincent wouldn't let him be, proved to be fictitious. At first, the lack of follow through mixed up his thoughts and emotions, creating lust and anger that everyone around him seemed to sense since most kept their distance more than normal. Eventually, the memories drifted away in the face of the present irrational reality. 

He loved the way the human mind worked, the fact that memories faded, along with the emotions attached to them. That fact was the only thing that kept him alive. After all, he knew that the whole of everything would make him lose his mind, if memories didn't fade. And then he would kill himself.

Sitting board straight in the seat, uniformed in his black armor, Sephiroth could see the crowd of excited faces. There were too many of them. They were too eager to receive their bone from their master. SOLDIER was growing at a rate that left him ill. It had already replaced the soldiers it'd lost in the Wutai war.

Were so many really so eager to be a 'hero' at any cost?

Lazard, the Director of SOLDIER, gripped at the podium and smiled at the faces who only had eyes for him. "Each of you, your hard work has not gone unnoticed, otherwise you wouldn't be here today. First Class is the highest rank a SOLDIER can achieve. You have earned this rank due to your commitment to protecting and serving the world as a whole. When you walk out of this room today, you will be the inspiration for people who strive for peace and prosperity."

At the words, Sephiroth had to bite back the urge to burst out laughing. However, the rest of the room seemed to be buying it.

"President Shinra and I thank you for everything you've sacrificed and achieved in seeking a world brought together in a common goal. Use your training and your abilities to make our organization everything it is expected to be."

The applause bounced off of the walls when the man stepped down. Sephiroth stood with the rest of the room, but couldn't find the strength to join in on the clapping. The rest of the room had apparently bought in on it, including the two SOLDIERs a short distance away who Sephiroth called his friends. There was no hope for them.

The men and women were herded out, leaving the few commanding officers to converse amongst themselves. Although he wasn't officially one of them, they all knew he soon would be. Nonetheless, no one attempted to talk with him, probably since any attempts hadn't worked before. At the moment, he wasn't sure whether to be grateful or regretful for that fact. He wanted to talk to someone, anyone. Instead, he walked out the side door and headed back to his room.

The hallways were empty on that side of the building. Arriving on his floor only took minutes. Soon enough, he keyed in a number and entered the dark, curtain-drawn apartment. Already working off his armor, he flicked on the light switch. His body jerked before he could stop himself when he caught sight of the figure standing in front of the long black curtains. Even over the expanse of the room, he knew instantly who it was.

"How did you get in here?" Sephiroth demanded. His voice echoed in a room that had little furniture despite it being one of the largest apartments in the ShinRa building.

"I used to work here and little has changed. It wasn't difficult."

Used to? The other man couldn't have been more than 30 years old. And Sephiroth had resided in the building for around two decades. He had never seen Vincent before, nor heard about him. Had the man been a child when he'd worked for ShinRa? Well, obviously not, but that made the fact make less sense.

Not quite ready to tell the other man he was full of shit, the SOLDIER instead continued with, "Okay. Why are you in my apartment then?"

"You know why."

Sephiroth huffed at the words. Ah, no, he didn't know why.

"Well, I would have told you more if you had let me."

Any urge to talk to someone had already left him. He wanted Vincent out of his room. No one came into his room, not since his ex-lover who'd preluded his relationships with Genesis and Angeal. He opened his mouth to tell the man to get out, but suddenly the man was stalking up to him. An instant, instinctual, confusing fear overtook him. This kind of fear was foreign to him and made him realize what others felt when they were at the end of his sword.

Vincent did the unthinkable and had him up against the wall for the second time in days, all before Sephiroth could stop himself from backing up. He flinched at the hand that came close to his cheek. He knew for sure then that that man knew something, knew him far more about this ridiculous situation than he was telling. But he had no clue what the man could know.

"You look so much like her..."

Sephiroth swallowed. "Like who?"

"Someone I once knew..."

Where were the answers this man supposedly had? The only thing Vincent seemed capable of was confusing him all the more.

Then, as if saying a lover's song, Vincent spoke softly, "You need to pack your belongings and come with me."

Sephiroth couldn't believe what the man had said. They were words he hadn't heard since his ex-lover had spoken similar ones, just before he'd disappeared from his life. And he told this man more or less the same thing he'd told the other one: "You've got to be kidding me. I can't leave." Sephiroth shook his head and then put a solid hand at Vincent's chest. The other man willing backed up and the swordsman walked further into the room, putting some welcome distance between them.

Nonetheless, even as he'd said the words, he no longer understood why he'd said it. Didn't he want a way out? Didn't he want to end his commitment to SOLDIER?

Thanks to SOLDIER, with all of his training and experience under his belt, he knew he should have been taking control of the situation, getting answers, not almost begging for them. He should have been interrogating the man with a sword to his neck and not running away like a scared child. Angry with himself, when he turned back around, he half-whispered, half-growled, "I'd really appreciate it if you'd start saying more than half-thoughts."

Vincent turned around as well and looked him in the eye again. "When I was sent here, I assured them I could, but..." The man smiled, a seemingly involuntary action.

Sent here? By who?

"But?"

Apparently getting comfortable for the long haul, the raven-haired man crossed his arms over his chest and rested his back against the wall Sephiroth had occupied somewhat unwillingly. "I've never been able to communicate effectively with, well... the people I love."

Love? Love?! What the fuck? The man had to be some kind of deranged, obsessed groupie. The man officially became insane in his book. 

He glanced at Masamune in the distance and when he looked back he saw that Vincent had followed his gaze. "Okay, I'm only going to tell you this one time: Get out of my apartment."

At that moment, Sephiroth didn't care that he was failing to put the whole puzzle together: the mystery woman, Vincent's knowledge of the ShinRa building, the fact that Vincent knew things he wasn't telling him. But the puzzle no longer mattered. This, whatever it was, couldn't possibly end in a good place. He just wanted Vincent out.

"When you come with me, I'll tell you everything, I promise, but we should leave now. I've let this situation continue on for far too long. Events are about to unfold that will end badly for so many people."

Sephiroth blurted out a half-laugh. "You're being serious? You actually think I'd leave with you? I'm sorry, but you're not that good of a fuck." Then recognition of Vincent's final words hit him. "And what's going to happen."

"From what I've been told... What can be stopped at this point... Well, soon Genesis will be wounded."

"Wounded? By who?"

"By you."

"How... How do you know this? Who told you this?" Sephiroth huffed at the absurdity of it all. "This is ridiculous. Can you see the future or something?"

"No..."

"Then what?"

"I'm from the future."


	3. Meeting a Monster

Sephiroth had to admit: he never would have thought time travel. Just his luck. He'd had sex with a lunatic.

He flexed his hands, missing the firmness of Masamune, but not quite ready yet to make a rush for the blade. He should have worn it to the ceremony but the thing was a known tripping hazard and, furthermore, weapons weren't allowed at such an event, at least not for the attendees. And he hadn't known Vincent would be trespassing into his apartment.

"Get out."

Vincent began to shake his head. Increasingly agitated, Sephiroth couldn't help but copy the motion. He tried to make himself angry so that he could lash out. But he failed to. Perhaps it was the other man's calmness and control that kept the silver-haired man in check. Why was Vincent suddenly so collected that he put the younger man to shame? Determination? Maybe.

Exasperated, Sephiroth growled, "Fine. I'll leave, but be gone when I get back."

Again, raven hair fluttered when the man shook his head. Then he actually had the gall to shift to block the door. Vincent seriously had a death wish. Or he had so much confidence in his own abilities that he didn't see Sephiroth as a threat. But if the other man knew about him, when it came to death, surely Vincent knew that none could top the SOLDIER's fighting skills. The man couldn't be that stupid.

"Sephiroth, we don't have time for this. I've already wasted too much time, but I couldn't..."

If he could change one thing about the other man, he'd make him say complete sentences every time. 

Nonetheless, the sudden change in tone and the burning look in Vincent's crimson eyes brought out a most unwelcome heat in Sephiroth's body. Not even his ex-lover had looked at him quite that way. Yes, there'd been love in his sky blue eyes, but not a consuming fire like he saw in Vincent's. 

Maybe Vincent was just messing with him. After all, how could someone feel so much for another that they burned, especially for someone they'd never met before? They hadn't met before, right? Suddenly he wasn't so sure. But could he have really forgotten this man?

"Please, get your things together." Vincent took a step forward. At the billowing of his cape, Sephiroth suddenly noticed the glint of blacked metal. A weapon. He couldn't understand how he'd missed it before. His heart quickened even more. "If you change your mind later, after you hear what I have to say, you know they'll welcome you back."

As the words faded, Sephiroth lost his willingness to be civil about the situation. He rushed straight to his sword, ready to attack, needing to be rid of emotions that eroded his very being, that terrified him.

The swordsman covered half the distance in an instant before Vincent proclaimed, "Your mother, I knew her. And your father. And I'll tell you about them if you come with me."

The word mother stopped him dead in his tracks. He turned, eyeing the intruder. "You know my mother? You know Jenova?"

Vincent's mouth opened, then closed, his mind clearly working on something. Sephiroth took a step forward and then another. His sanity already tarnished from these few minutes, the days, the years, his whole life, he had to clench his teeth to stop himself from yelling. He'd never yelled before, not in anger. He'd always kept it in off of the battle field. But this man was pushing every button he had, whether intentionally or not. Had the man said anything else besides 'mother,' he would have been all right and dealt with the situation, as all right as he had been anyway. Now it was all too personal.

No longer bothering to hide his fury, he growled, "You need to tell me what you know. Right now. Whatever games you're playing, they're no longer welcome." As if they ever had been.

Before Vincent had any chance to respond, both men heard laughter coming down the hallway and directly to his door. He knew from the voices that they were Genesis and Angeal. They'd come to his door before, even though he'd never let them in. They were probably wanting to celebrate their newfound First Class status over some beers. Before he'd seen Vincent, he would have happily gone with them to get away from his own misery for a while. Now, he only saw the gunman.

"You have a few seconds to grab your things. We're leaving." When Sephiroth merely stood still, his breath heavy, a much more calm Vincent added, "I will not come back. This is your only chance."

The words seemed like a bluff, especially considering the emotions flooding from the other man only moments before, but with the raven-haired man's expression cold, he couldn't be sure. Did he want to take the chance, especially when he believed Vincent knew about his past?

A fist pounded on the door, as Genesis called through it, "Come on, Sephiroth. Those people are dull, with no sense of character. We need to celebrate in a real way."

"If I come with you, you'll tell me everything you know?"

"Yes."

Without another word, he refastened his loosened armor, grabbed Masamune, and looked to Vincent. He didn't need anything else.

It was then that he finally lost all ability to form a word. The other man's body flexed, changed, molded, grew, and sprouted black leathery wings that pierced the light in the room. Gone was the beauty. In its place was a completely different kind of beauty, one that could make normal men tremble with fear. No stranger to magic and summoning, Sephiroth fared only a bit better when the beast grabbed his arm none too gently, dragging him to the widow he suddenly realized he'd left open. This must have been how Vincent had gained entrance without trigging a single alarm. Then thick arms wrapped around him. They burst through the curtains, black wings shredding the night's cool air. He'd never been afraid of heights, able to leap and practically fly like no man should have been able to, but as the beast's wings only pounded, drawing them higher than the ShinRa building itself, he felt his stomach turn over at the instinctual possibility of death.

Sephiroth tried to control his breathing as the beast growled near his ear. His voice swept away with the icy wind, and he couldn't be sure the other man heard, when he shouted, "Where are we going?"

The voice that spoke only chilled him until he felt he was as cold as the air around him. It grumbled, the beast's breath hot and metallic next to his ear, "We're taking you to your mother."

We're? Who in the world was this man? This beast? Perhaps the knowledge of a 'we' made the situation make a bit more sense, explaining some of the absurdity of it. Maybe the man was technically insane. And he'd willingly gone with him, had allowed him to ascend to heights that were difficult to breathe in.

And was this man/beast really going to take him to his mother?

As the hours passed, he had plenty of time to contemplate the situation as a whole. The beast never tired, even while carrying a man who weighed close to 200 pounds. Eventually, he had to beg to be set down, even if only for a minute, as his body pained him from trying to control his own movements for so long.

The silver-haired man laid Masamune on a large flat rock rising out of the ground, sat down on the cool stone, and then, unable to reject the land's offering, laid down next to the blade and stared up at the dark night's sky. Soil-tanged moisture hung in the air, hinting at the coming dawn. He had no idea where they were anymore. Well, he had a general idea. They were well south and heading west of Costa del Sol. He realized then he should have brought some food with him. But how was he to know they'd be traveling across the world?

Motion caught his eye and he turned his head towards Vincent, or whatever it was, and watched grotesquely beautiful wings flap as they released excess energy. The man was looking to the distance, away from him, perhaps contemplating their flight plan. What did a monster contemplate? 

Sephiroth felt no shame in watching him. After all, Vincent had a certain amount of control over his life for the moment and it was better to know his opponent than to ignore the possibility of a battle and death.

As light started creeping over the horizon, the raven-haired man's breath suddenly picked up and his whole body shuddered as if a leaf caught by a light breeze.

The younger man spoke softly in a voice that nonetheless seemed overly loud. "Vincent?"

The beast whipped its head around at the sound of his voice, as if it'd forgotten Sephiroth was there. For a moment, he saw the baring of teeth, heard a growl, and he instantly regretted bringing attention to himself.

He moved to sit up, suddenly realizing the vulnerability of his reclined position, but the monster was on him before he could sit up completely. A claw gripped him by the neck and slammed him back down, making his head swim.

A smile formed on its blackened lips, if one could consider the twisted sneer a smile. "He loves you, lusts for you, little human. You would not believe the pain he's in right now. He wants to save you." A claw suddenly climbed up the interior of Sephiroth's leg and to his most sensitive area. He hissed when the metal tips bit down on the hidden tender flesh. "From me."

In that moment, the younger man struggled to get a grip on Masamune, completely ready to chop Vincent in half, if need be. However, at the odd angle, with the length of the blade, he could do little more than grip the bladed edge and slam it against the gunman's side, which brought the monster's attention to it. The claw at his groin jerked to grab his hand, smashing it on the stone, making him cry out. The thing was unbelievably strong.

"You scream so beautifully," it rumbled, shifting its hand at Sephiroth's neck and nipping at the revealed flesh, at the reddened lines now lacing it. "You didn't even scream that way for him. I feel honored," it chuckled.

Had this beast been a witness to their fucking? Apparently. And it'd hinted before that Vincent could see them now. That meant Vincent had to still be in there, conscious, while Sephiroth himself felt consciousness trickling away. This wasn't how he'd seen himself going. 

As if he'd give up so easily.

He slithered his only free arm between them, gripped the side of the monster's face, and instantly called the materia imbedded in his sword. Electricity exploded, lighting the area, knocking the thing off of him, singeing his face and hair. He clawed to get himself upright and off of the rock, grabbing Masamune in the process. The beast lay where it fell, but slowly it regressed, shifting into the man he'd met days before. The last things to tuck away were his wings which shrank until they headed to some unknown destination beneath his cloak.

Sephiroth stared down at the unconscious man, rage, terror making him want to run away or make sure the man was dead. He wasn't sure at that point which he wanted. Again, he had to ask himself if any of this was worth it. Was knowing his own past really worth getting raped and killed for?

The growing light revealed Vincent's face. Bright red skin clashed with unnaturally pale skin. He'd been burned, but far less than a normal human would have been. And even as Sephiroth watched, he realized the redness was quickly draining away. The man clearly wasn't dead. And at the rate he was healing, there was a good chance he'd wake up all too soon.

He had to make a decision. A good one this time. Then again, could he even be trusted to make a good decision at that point? This wasn't exactly normal warfare, what he'd been trained for.

If he ran, would Vincent hunt him down or give up on him? If he killed him, what would be the benefit, well, besides releasing rage and possibly protecting himself against future aggressions? But if the man did have answers, they'd be lost. And the only time Vincent had attacked him was when he'd transformed and something else inside of him had made its presence known. Vincent was human again now, or as human as he was going to get.

Within moments, the future General decided he needed answers. He'd come this far, after all.

Not taking any more chances, he shoved the man onto his back with a booted foot, straddled him at his stomach, trapping Vincent's arms, drew his blade to his neck, and called on the materia in the hilt, speeding up the healing process. 

Within moments, the man woke up, blinking, clearly trying to regain his bearings. Vincent's breaths quickly matched Sephiroth's already heavy ones. When they locked gazes, he jerked to sit up, but quickly met up with Sephiroth's blade and stopped instantly.

"Okay, I think this is an extremely good time to start talking in complete sentences."

Laying back down completely, Vincent swallowed and closed his eyes. "This isn't necessary."

"I beg to differ."

Crimson eyes reopened, looked over Sephiroth's face, and murmured, his voice tainted with concern, "You're hurt."

"Probably, and my hand hurts like hell, but I'm not doing anything about it. I don't want to forget what you are." Because when the other man was human, his expressions were so damned deceptive and disturbingly beautiful and tempting.

To his utter shock, when the man closed his eyes, he looked like he was about to cry, and Sephiroth wanted to kill him so badly to stop the man from even attempting it. This man had no right to cry, to feel sorry for himself. He had no right to make the younger man feel regret for his implicit threats.

Sephiroth had to tense every muscle he had to not kill him and hissed, "Don't. Fucking. Cry."

Vincent looked back up at him. "I'm sorry... I tried to stop, but..."

Sephiroth clenched his teeth and strained to control his breathing. He was so incredibly tired of this man speaking half sentences. When he felt he could trust himself, he growled, "But what?"

"He feeds on my emotions. He got out of control. It's easy to control him when he's dormant, but when I let him out, it's difficult. I couldn't control him."

Couldn't control him because Vincent felt so damn much? Sephiroth ground his teeth together and forced himself to simply say, "Who is he?"

"Chaos. Your mother..." Vincent closed his eyes briefly and Sephiroth almost thought he was going to stop again, but then he reopened them and continued with, "she put him inside of me to save my life."

The change in topic sent his head spinning. "My mother... You really knew her?"

"Yes... And I loved her. So much."

Love? Sephiroth was getting overly tired of hearing that word. God, he was so damned tired. 

Trying to force love out of his mind, he instead attempted digest the other words. "Wait, when did she do this to you?"

"Before you were born."

"But you must have been a kid then."

"No. I was 27. What she did to me slowed down the aging process. In fact, it's why they allowed me to come."

"They? They who? Wait... You were 27 before I was born?" Sephiroth suddenly truly eyed the other man. Vincent had said he'd loved his mother... He'd said he knew who Sephiroth's father was. And he'd suggested that if Sephiroth knew who he was, Sephiroth might change his mind about their first encounter. Visions of their fucking paraded back into his mind. If he was to believe any of this... "God. Please tell me you're not my father."

Vincent's eyes went wide at the question and what it implied. He shook his head, even as the blade pressed just that much closer to his neck, feathering traces of blood. "No. No! I wouldn't do that to you. I mean... I loved her. I-I asked her to marry me, but she chose your father instead of me."

Sephiroth clenched his eyes to stop the tears. Did he really want to hear any of this? He didn't want to know this. He didn't. He really didn't. When Vincent hissed, his eyes snapped back open, and he stood up and backed away, trying to shift through the thoughts that eroded his mind. But everything he thought only ended in more questions. Was he seriously supposed to believe any of this? The man had to be lying. But about what?

The other man stood up slowly, eyeing his back, quiet. It took several minutes before he finally changed the subject, probably realizing that Sephiroth had no will to hear more, with, "Over 20 years from now Reeve and his scientists develop a way to come back. They send me because, unfortunately, their first attempt failed."

"First attempt at what?"

"Their attempt to stop you."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Unfortunately, no. But, what we've already done must have changed something. You never left ShinRa before the cascade of events started, but now you have."

He'd heard enough. He really didn't want to know more, but he couldn't stop himself. "You said... You said you're here to stop me. From hurting Genesis?"

"No... That single event leads to so many other ones. It leads to you killing many, many people and seeking destruction."

"Destruction? What do you mean?"

"You call forth an extremely powerful magic, one capable of destroying all life on the planet. But..."

"But?"

"We stop you. We kill you. You wouldn't have stopped otherwise."

Sephiroth eyed him. With the pain in the man's voice, it became clear to him that Vincent had been part of the 'we', one of the people to kill him, well, in the future. He started to shake his head and then couldn't stop the motion. None of this made sense. Why would he attempt to destroy the whole planet? He couldn't understand it for even a moment.

"Why-Why would I do that?"

Vincent crossed his arms over his chest, looking to the horizon. "It's partially my fault. I should have told you the truth of everything, a truth no one has offered you, but right now, my present self is locked away in a mansion. I don't leave it because I feel the need to atone. But... My actions are selfish. I should have come to you. And your mother, she can't help you... I couldn't save her. Your father... He's alive, but there isn't a day he tells you the truth."

His father was alive then? "And what is the truth?"

"I wanted to show you your mother, before I told you. Will you let me?"

The question clearly wasn't an offering of a choice. Arms folded over his chest in a vain attempt to warm up, he wondered if he could get any more out of the other man without compliance. Compliance... Yet another person in his life who wanted to control him...

Besides... Showing him his mother probably meant more flying. He didn't want to be confronted with Chaos again. Maybe... "Could we walk? You could tell me more along the way."

"It's still far." Vincent turned back to face him, studying him. "I will control him this time, I promise you."

"Right..."

The chance to see his supposedly dead mother... He couldn't voice his consent, but Vincent seemed to take the hint. The raven-haired man smiled briefly and then he transformed. And Sephiroth regretted it even before the monster took him into the air.

Next to his ear, Chaos hushed him and then chuckled. Neither of which soothed him in the least.

Was any of this really supposed achieve the goal of keeping him sane and non-homicidal?


	4. Family

Sephiroth stood in front of the woman surrounded by crystalized mako. She appeared to be alive, trapped in her body as much as her body was trapped. Perhaps she was. 

The young man couldn't deny a certain amount of resemblance, mostly in the shape of her face and nose. But those features he had in common with many other people. Had she been a man, had he not been so damn unnatural where she seemed so absurdly normal, it might have been easier to determine if she was indeed his parent. If only he could see her eyes...

Clothing rustled behind him but he ignored it. Neither man had spoken since entering the hidden cave. He didn't want to hear Vincent's voice at that point. Maybe he would later. But for now, he just wanted... 

He wanted the truth to come from his mother's lips and not from a near stranger's. Despite him willing her to move, however, she never did.

The room eternally still and peaceful, lulling him to be quiet, the day had moved well into evening before he finally turned around and sat next to the man sitting on the chilled hard floor behind him. He looked to the other man, examining him, as confused as ever. But at least he wasn't drowning in emotion like earlier.

"You can ask me whatever you like."

At the words, Sephiroth frowned slightly, looking back to his "mother". "Is that really my mother?"

Vincent huffed lightly and Sephiroth looked back to him in time to witness the flash of a smile. "Yes, it is. Entombed by her own devices... Besides the fact that she can never truly die, at least not in this state, she unfortunately felt the need to atone as much as I did."

"Why? Atone for what?"

"What we let happen."

"Which is?"

"We let your father destroy your life. All of our lives, for that matter. When I realized the extent of what was being done, I tried to stop it, but, well, that's how I ended up with a bullet in my gut."

"You tried to stop my father?"

Vincent nodded slightly.

"What... What was he doing?"

"He used you, his unborn child, as an experiment to create a perfect being. And, well, he succeeded where others had failed."

Perfect? An experiment? The notions didn't surprise him. From birth, those around him had been in awe of him, had praised him, had feared his intellect, power, and grace, had used him for their own ends. Nevermind that, inside, he'd never once felt perfect. 

The obvious forced a question he'd been trying to avoid because he had the feeling he wouldn't like the answer. Vincent had told him his father was alive and lied to him. He didn't want to know, but had to know at the same time. "Who is my father?"

The room quieted except for their echoing breaths. Sephiroth realized Vincent truly didn't want to tell him.

"Vincent, tell me."

"Your father is Hojo."

The name hit him hard in the gut and boiled there, making him want to explode with fury. Part of him couldn't believe it, while another part wasn't surprised and knew it as the truth. He should have guessed. He should have known. The scientist had always taken an abnormal interest in him, more so than any other had. He'd always been Hojo's pet long before he'd become ShinRa's. Every test, every physical and psychological evaluation had been under that man's orders. He remembered the way the staff had looked at Hojo with true fear, much the way they secretly looked at the boy under their care. Had they known the truth but never bothered to tell him? Everyone in his life, had they known?

For the first time in years, he cried. It was just a trickle at first, but then the tears fell and made splashes and tiny puddles on his armor. "Please tell me it isn't true. Not him..."

"I-"

"God. Just shut up." Sephiroth squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control himself. The materia in his sword sang to him. Then, it wasn't just the materia, but the walls, the air, and the whole world that sang. He felt heat through his body, around him. He vaguely heard Vincent scrambling upright. He looked up at the other man then, witnessed the fear in his eyes through the fire that burned around him. The fear there made him cold. Now Vincent chose to be scared? Sephiroth stood up as well, eyeing Vincent. The fire spread, forcing Vincent to back up or be scorched.

"Do you have any idea what he did to me? Do you know how many people stood there and watched him do it? Helped him do it? And my mother." He looked at her, her innocent face. "I was inside of her, and she allowed it happen? Encouraged it?" He looked back to Vincent, his face clenched with rage.

Vincent's mouth opened, but no words came out.

"You don't know. You have no fucking clue." The younger man eyed the man keeping his distance and then smirked. "Or do you?"

"Lucrecia wanted the best for you, but she also loved Hojo and listened to him. She regretted ever going along with it."

"Lucrecia? 

"Your mother isn't Jenova."

"Hojo told me..." The absurdity of it all hit him. Everything Hojo had done to him, the life he'd force upon him was all based on lies. Lies to what end? To control him? To keep him from ever seeking his real mother? To cover Hojo's own guilt? Could the man even feel guilt?

Black anger burned inside of every cell in his body. Fire rushed out, exploding in the room. Vincent became red motion and literally flew out of the room. The coward. 

It was then that he realized his feet no longer touched the ground and instead hovered some distance above it. And then he felt something so foreign and so familiar at the same time. In a moment of wonder, he touched outwards with his hands, his heart, and his mind. 

Beautiful warmth caressed him and he couldn't help but soften his angled, sweat-dampened body. Slowly, the fire faded as the warmth cooled the black fire within. He willed his feet to once again touch the floor. He regarded the cave, looking with his eyes as much as with his mind, taking in every inch of the room. This place was unlike any other he'd been inside. It wanted him to be still, to be at peace. Was that why his mother had come here? He realized what he was feeling could have been considered manipulation, but for once, it felt good. Was this what death felt like? If so, then it was totally different than what he'd previously thought of as only pain, suffering, and eventual emptiness.

Then his cruelly trained mind forced the warmth to retreat. He found he hated the cold all the more, but it was more familiar and, because of that, more comfortable. He frowned, looking towards the floor, unsure of what to do. 

Then he remembered Vincent and, of course, Hojo. He took one more look to Lucrecia, feeling nothing for her, except the clenching of his gut, and then walked out of the cave. Vincent stood a short distance away. The raven-haired man watched him with an obvious wariness that could have made Sephiroth laugh had he not been so cold.

"You didn't bring me here because of her, did you?"

"If the cave could contain Chaos, then I thought perhaps..."

Sephiroth looked away, chuckling humorlessly. "You knew how I'd react."

"If your future is any predictor, then yes."

"If you think this'll stop me from killing him, you're wrong."

"My only concern in this world is you."

"And the rest of the world?"

Vincent smiled a real smile. "They're an added bonus."

For the first time since he could remember, Sephiroth blushed. He jerked his gaze elsewhere. That the man could say something so absurd... They didn't even know one another. At least, he knew next to nothing about the other man. "Why did you come here? Do we know each other later on? Are we..."

"No..."

Again curious, his skin thankfully leaking color, unable to help himself, Sephiroth cautiously walked closer, searching the other man's face in the fading light. Vincent looked away under the scrutiny. "Lust then?" Vincent ground his teeth. Sephiroth smirked. "Some misguided desire to make everything right? As if you could."

"Perhaps, but I want to try."

"Hojo tried to kill you?" Sephiroth stepped closer, until they were close enough to touch each other if they reached out. "I'll kill him for you as well, for what he did to us."

Vincent began to shake his head, his lips pressed together, refusing to look Sephiroth in the eye.

"What? Were you expecting us to ride off together into the sunset and never look back?"

The older man huffed. "Maybe."

The simple word enveloped him in heat. If they truly didn't know each other in the future, then their only connection was an undead woman in a cave and a sadistic scientist. Rational thinking would have said that Vincent would wipe his hands clean the moment he did his job, yet...

Sephiroth reached out and touched the other man's chest. Vincent sucked in his breath and gripped the hand before the touch could turn into a testing caress.

"Why... Why do you feel this way about me? If I'm truly a killer, a destructor... Do you have any idea how many people I've killed and I haven't even tried to destroy the world yet?"

The gunman closed his eyes at the final words and gripped his hand all the harder, so much so that it bordered on painful. Sephiroth didn't try to stop it. In fact, he loved the pain because it told him how much Vincent felt, however misplaced those feeling probably were.

But then his mother made a renewed appearance in his mind, making whatever emotions had delicately built up topple back over. "Or is it because of my mother?" He huffed a humorless laugh. "Are you trying to replace her?"

Finally Vincent looked at him. "Sephiroth, I'll always love her. But it's been 45 years since I last saw her alive. My memories of her... They were some of the best and much of the worst I have..." He looked to the distance once more, probably living in his own distant memories. "And really, I can't replace something I never had in the first place. She was never mine. You must understand that there was just too much between us to even try. She blamed herself for my father's death. But I never blamed her. She went to Hojo because she couldn't bear to look at me. I reminded her too much of what happened."

"And you don't have that problem? You won't look at me and always think about her?"

Vincent frowned at him thoughtfully and suddenly, totally unexpectedly, smiled brilliantly.

Good God, the man was beautiful and so... Taken back, Sephiroth couldn't help a small responsive smile. "What?"

"I just didn't think you'd even consider..."

The younger man paused. The idea that... "I'm not considering." Was he considering?

It was then that Vincent's hand released its gripped and instead laid over his, pressing it to Vincent's chest. Sephiroth wasn't sure whether he wanted to rip it away or feel more of the man's warmth that permeated.

"I do know so much about you. They made me study you, the notes about you, before they allowed me to come back. It only made me..."

Unsure if he wanted to know the answer, the silver-haired man, muttered, "Made you what?"

Vincent smiled. "Made me love you more."

That word again... Sephiroth laughed humorlessly, shaking his head, and finally yanked his hand away. He backed away a couple of steps and took in Vincent's dejected face. "I think you're as messed up as I am." Then he huffed another laugh. "Is that how you looked at her when she rejected you?" Vincent went cold. Sephiroth backed away a few more steps and used his arms to emphasis his words as he continued with, "You must see how utterly disturbing this all is? All of it. This-this so-called fucking life is the sickest joke ever played on a person, and I've seen some sick-ass jokes in my life."

"You need time."

"I need time? I need time?! What the hell is that going to do for me?"

The gunman took a step towards him.

"What? Are you going to stick me back in there? Trap me? You know what, if what you say is true, then maybe you should because at this moment I feel nothing but hate for any of you. And I do want every last one of you dead." It was then, in some cruel, gracious gift, that Angeal and Genesis appeared in his mind with their smiling and laughing faces. While the men weren't innocents themselves, their almost distant memory reminded him that some people were worth saving. 

Sephiroth turned away then, unable to bear Vincent's presence any longer. And then, a quick learner, as if he'd been born to do it, he took off into the air, determined to destroy the source of every pain he'd ever been forced to experience in his life.

Because he wasn't quite ready to destroy the world, because he had focus, one man was enough. After that, he'd have to see.


	5. Death of a Scientist

Chillier than the last, the night again drew near to early morning. Silent feet landed on the high outcropping that led inside the ShinRa building, to the training facility within. Most lights were off or dim in the windows. No movement caught the attention of slitted aquamarine eyes.

Sephiroth walked inside, comfortable in the belief that whoever might have been up at that ungodly hour wouldn't stop him or even greet him with more than a nod or quick glance. He'd been gone less than a couple of days, after all. While such a disappearance was abnormal for him, at least without the accompaniment of orders, it wouldn't matter to the vast majority of people. Everyone was comfortable in the fact that, no matter where he went, he'd always be under SOLDIER's controlling wing.

The man knowing where to go, leather clad legs stalked straight to the computer lab down several large hallways. He ignored the trailing feet some distance behind him since he knew who they belonged to. The feet were easy to pick up with the metal that clanked with every step. Sephiroth had no idea what the older man's profession was, if any, but Vincent had no clue how to stalk someone. Or, to give Vincent some credit, maybe he wasn't even trying to and was instead merely giving Sephiroth some distance. 

The swordsman huffed when he acknowledged his own effort to sneak. Sneaking was a child's way, a Turk's way. He was a SOLDIER, a weapon, a monster even. 

Drenched in his abnormality, he felt so much like a monster. 

He should have been slicing apart the facility with his sword, exposing its innards and eventually Hojo's own. Or exploding the walls and furniture with the hopes of impaling the scientist. Or burning the facility to the ground with his father inside as he listened for his screams. He'd thought of many other colorful ways to kill the man in the preceding hours.

Yes, he should have been making a spectacle out of killing the man, but the closer he got, he found, the less he even wanted to see him, let alone be near him. 

Perhaps, while returning home, he'd had too much time to think about everything: the meaning of Vincent's revelations, the truth about his "family", about his own purpose or lack thereof. Before, even though he'd hated his life, at least he'd known what he was and where he was going. But now, he realized, he'd known nothing. The realization left him ill. Perhaps he would have been better off never knowing the little he now knew, if Vincent was to be believed.

The closer the lab got, the more some part of him begged him to stop his forward movement, to fulfill his renewed desire to vanish and forget, but what kept his feet moving at that moment was the awareness that nothing would end unless he kept going. It never would until Hojo was dead. 

After all, if he walked away, Hojo wouldn't just let him go. The man would send someone after him had he truly thought the swordsman had vanished. And would ShinRa simply let him go? Would the world just let him go? No, they wouldn't. Even years from that moment, he knew he wouldn't be safe. It would only take one person to uncover him and he would be at their mercy once again. 

His stomach tight with frustration and anger, he knew they wouldn't leave him be. He was worth too much in far too many respects.

Besides, there'd been others the scientist had used and discarded. There were others now. If he simply left, there would be more and they would most likely be incapable of stopping the scientist. Like he'd been.

Hojo's work, if one could call it that, was his life, all that he ever thought about, all that he cared about. Anyone near Hojo could see that, besides his mother apparently.

Even as a child, Sephiroth had been able to see Hojo's single-mindedness and, back then, had strived to make the man feel more for him, to befriend him, in hopes of stopping some of the pain and, well, having a friend. Hojo hadn't even noticed his efforts.

No, knowing what he knew, he wouldn't let himself have a choice no matter how much he wanted it.

When he came to the door he presumed hid the scientist, if the man was as dedicated as Sephiroth thought he was, he paused, palming his sword, and then placed his hand on the cool metal slab, suddenly unwilling to reveal what was inside. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather together his strength and rage, but then, as the gunman drew forever near, he turned his head to watch Vincent instead. The other man, a distraction, slowed down slightly but nonetheless continued until he was next to Sephiroth. The crimson gaze held him.

Then the gunman spoke quietly. "Second thoughts?"

Sephiroth huffed a laugh, shaking his head slightly. "If he was standing in front of me right now, saying what I know he'd say, laughing the way he does... Doing what he does... He'd already be dead."

"But it's different to just murder someone?"

"It shouldn't be."

"Or perhaps you just don't want all of this to be true."

The swordsman couldn't help his painful smile. "You must understand... I followed his orders all my life. Submitted to him. He made me feel like I had to do it."

"The abuse you suffered started even before you were born, when you couldn't have known any better."

The younger man huffed a laugh, the hand at the door turning into a fist that threatened to pound at the metal. "I just... I can't believe I didn't try to stop him. I never tried. I could have stopped him. I could have ended all of this so long ago."

"You put your trust in all of them. In Hojo. In ShinRa." Vincent crossed his arms over his chest, as if his own words made him uncomfortable, perhaps because they applied to the gunman as well. "They gave you no real choices."

Sephiroth shook his head, his bangs fluttering in his face, so much so that he tucked them behind his ears. Then he turned to face Vincent full-on, trying to make the other man understand for some illogical reason, as if Vincent's thoughts really mattered at that moment. "But I did have a choice. I always have. For all my strength and supposed superiority, I didn't even try. To suggest that anyone else is weak... I have no right to even think it."

Vincent reached out a cautious hand, obviously wanting to touch him, to comfort him. Sephiroth looked down at it and then, in a moment of weakness, realizing he wanted to be touched by someone, gripped it with the hand that had healed long before. The simple contact brought a warmth that was comparable to what he'd felt in the cave.

The raven-haired man smiled, looking down at their intertwined hands. "I'd offer to kill him for you, but that wouldn't help you."

Sephiroth frowned at Vincent, at the man's deceptively innocent, beautiful face. The notion that the gunman would have killed Hojo shouldn't have been surprising considering what Sephiroth knew about the gunman. Nonetheless, he hadn't really considered Vincent's desire to kill, nor his death count, outside of their own mangled relationship.

"Many years ago, I was what you would call a Turk," Vincent confided, seeming to sense Sephiroth's thoughts. "I've killed enough people to know that I avoid it at all costs, but I will kill if I see the need."

"You were a Turk?"

Vincent merely nodded. A Turk who sucked at stalking. Who knew? 

"Why would you be involved with their research then? How did you know my mother?"

The gunman's face grew grim, his mind probably living his own distant memories. "When I met her, I was assigned to protect them, Lucrecia and Hojo, during their research in Neibleheim, where you were born."

Protect them? The second thought that crossed Sephiroth's mind was that Vincent had done one shitty job of protecting them, although he probably hadn't been ordered to protect them from themselves. Yeah, 'love' must have been flying all over the damn place. At the thought, the swordsman yanked his hand away. God, he hated reality.

And now here Vincent was, protecting yet again. Protecting who? Sephiroth? Himself? The world? The man was a fucking saint. 

The silver-haired man suddenly felt he understood the predicament his own mother had been in, caught in between these two men. They must have suffocated her. They suffocated him.

Vincent's mouth opened, closed, and then he looked down, away from Sephiroth's glaring, accusing eyes.

"Stop following me," he growled, "I don't need nor want your protection."

Then, for the first time since he'd met Vincent, he saw a very real rage harden the ex-Turk's face. He wasn't surprised in the least when Vincent grabbed a leather strap on his chest and slammed him hard against the door behind him, a noise that anyone on the other side surely heard. 

It was at that same moment that Sephiroth realized, despite everything, he had no real desire anymore to hurt the man who had been his lover for only a few minutes, who had threatened bodily harm only days later. And that was why he let Vincent shove him. And really, the aggression felt good. It was something he was used to. Something sane in its own disturbing way. Something to bring sanity to all of this.

On top of it all, the strength in Vincent made him a threat, an equal where the future general had no other. The younger man was fully aware of that fact. The instinctual panic it made him feel...

With the slam, Vincent's teeth gritted together and the man leaned closer, almost enough to make their bodies touch. What a sick time, Sephiroth knew, to feel heat course through his body, but it did as his breaths quickened. Quickly the heat centralized at his groin and made him want to devour the man trying to control him, the wonderful distraction that he was. Sephiroth also knew then that the ex-Turk was a man who might well have been able to make the younger man willingly accept that control eventually, if not at that moment. 

The growl turning into a frown, it took a few moments before Vincent seemed to comprehend the sudden change in Sephiroth. Then, adding fire to the younger man's body, the gunman pressed against him, grinding at him, making him grind back. Sephiroth grabbed his face with his free hand and kissed him, holding nothing back. Vincent moaned as Sephiroth bit at his lip, the tongue he forced into the younger man's mouth.

Sephiroth's head swam by the time Vincent pressed at his chest, forcing him to stay put as the gunman backed away slightly. Breathing heavily, crimson eyes closed, he groaned, "Good god... You're right. We're both royally fucked up."

The silver-haired man huffed a laugh, looking to the ceiling, trying to straighten out his mind in the moment's reprieve. "When this is over, you're going to tell me exactly why you came back because I don't understand it. You swear we're not lovers in the future?"

"If I'd had a moment of sense in me, I would have made you mine. I would have done things so differently." Vincent flexed his grip on his armor, probably envisioning what he should have done, whether in the future or in the past. "But no."

Vincent claimed his mouth until their bodies were once again at each other, feeding off of each other's heat. It was then that Sephiroth barely heard a mechanical sound above them. He opened his eyes and then turned his head away, from a man who didn't want to let him go, as he looked up at the camera above them. In the next moment, he shoved Vincent away from him and opened the door behind him so fiercely that it slammed against the wall, probably making a dent he didn't bother examining. 

Standing in front of a computer monitor, Hojo had already straightened when Sephiroth caught sight of him. Then the man took a step back. His disheveled hair draped over his shoulders. His shirt wasn't tucked in or concealed by his absent lab coat. He'd obviously been sleeping somewhere in the room. 

From his earliest memories, Hojo chose the oddest times to smile. That moment was no exception, even with an extremely probable threat of bodily harm from the sword in the silver-haired man's hand.

"Can I help you, Sephiroth?" Then he looked to the man behind the SOLDIER and his whole demeanor changed considerably, anger seething in his eyes and clenched jaw, and Sephiroth knew Hojo detested Vincent. Or perhaps he just hated seeing Vincent with Sephiroth, which would have been understandable considering the careful layers of lies Hojo had given Sephiroth his whole life. But then the man smirked. "How ever did you get out, Mr. Valentine?"

Get out? He remember Vincent telling him that his present self was "atoning" in a mansion, but he hadn't implied that Hojo had something to do with that, just that he'd shot him. Then again, considering the inhumanness of Vincent's body, Vincent probably had implied a great deal but the swordsman hadn't made the connection.

Vincent didn't move past the door frame. He barely breathed from what Sephiroth could hear in the quiet room. He wanted to look back, to see how Vincent had reacted, but he didn't want to take his eyes off of Hojo.

"Sephiroth, this man is a criminal who escaped his confinement. You must apprehend him so that he can be returned."

Sephiroth laughed, a quiet, bitter sound. "Really?"

Hojo frowned at him. "Whatever this man has told you, he's manipulating you. He is an insurgent and a murderer. He would do anything to escape his sentencing."

Sephiroth tightened his grip on his sword, his body flushing with rage and growing distrust. "And what am I supposed to ignore exactly? The truth about my mother? The fact that you're my father?"

"You know who your mother is. And unfortunately, that's all we know about your past. You know this."

A growl permeated his throat. Sephiroth hated that the man could put doubt into him so easily. But, if what Hojo was saying was true, that Vincent had escaped a prison, why had he come to Sephiroth? Was it because the ex-Turk was truly trying to help? Or perhaps, he had the hoped that Sephiroth would kill the scientist for him for whatever past entanglements they had with one another? But surely, if that was the case, Vincent could have done his own dirty work. 

There had to be more to it than Hojo was letting on. Then again, perhaps Vincent -was- merely a lunatic, an escaped one at that. Neither idea shocked him.

In reality, the only thing he had to go on was the words of two men who offered him no proof of anything. Well, except for the fact that Vincent had shown him his 'mother', but could he even be sure she truly was?

Finally, he heard Vincent step forward and past him. He watched the other man, suddenly happy to have the gunman in front of him where he could see him as well. Vincent snarled, "You've filled him with nothing but lies for far too many years, Hojo. What I did, my participation in this madness, is on me, but it's going to end today. You have no idea what your decisions have cost the world and, even if you did, I honestly don't think you'd care for even a moment."

Ignoring the gunman, Hojo voiced with a sympathy Sephiroth didn't believe he had, "I witnessed 'him' taking advantage of you in the hallway. You do remember the last time a man attempted this? How he used you and left you."

Sephiroth's body stiffened with embarrassment and resentment, knowing that Hojo knew what he'd tried so hard to keep secret from the world. Every aspect of his life had always been displayed for prying eyes against his will. Still, he'd thought he'd had something of his own just that one time.

"He... He wanted me to come with him. He didn't leave me. I chose to stay here."

Vincent turned his head to look at him, a frown on his face.

Hojo purred, "He was nothing but a man taking advantage of a teenager. It sickened me, but I chose not to intervene because I felt you were old enough to make such decisions. However, I would have intervened had I felt he was hurting you."

Sephiroth closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, trying not to shout, to rage like a child, unwilling to hear any more. Under his breath, he muttered, "I should have killed you the moment I walked in here."

Neither man probably heard the words, but that didn't matter. This whole ordeal had done nothing to end his misery, rather it had enlarged it. He should have just run away. He should have run away when he was a child, before all, well, most of the pain happened. Now, he wasn't even sure if killing Hojo could end it. Did Vincent have to die as well? Whose death would let him have peace? 

Besides his own... It wasn't the first time he'd contemplated suicide, but he'd always known the effort it would have taken to perform such an act, outside of a total decapitation. 

He suddenly felt queasy and light-headed. The lack of food and sleep surely wasn't helping.

"Sephiroth, I'm sorry, but I won't allow this to continue," Vincent said, his voice cold.

Aquamarine eyes snapped open in time to watch Vincent point his rifle at Hojo. "No!"

Hojo stood frozen, but still had no fear on his face. Perhaps he thought he was invincible. Perhaps there was a reason for that outside of his ego.

Vincent had his gaze back on the SOLDIER, his jaw tight, probably in frustration.

"If what you told me is true, you can't kill him." Why exactly? Where was this ill-conceived sense of family coming from? He realized it wasn't so much family that couldn't allow it. If Vincent killed him, gave him no say in the matter, he'd have no resolution. It had to be on his own terms or things wouldn't be final. "If you're truly here to save me, then try to understand. Let me do this."

"Whatever you're going to do, do it quickly. Dawn is coming soon."

Then, finally, Hojo's eyes flashed fear. In less than twenty minutes, with the ex-Turk closing and locking the door and watching in the background, Sephiroth had gotten the answers he'd sought, most of which collaborated Vincent's story, minus the time travel, and walked away from the mangled, bled out pile on the floor.


	6. The Reason

Ever his shadow, Vincent simply watched him as he tore apart the lab, slicing computers, smashing holes into walls with furniture a normal man would have had trouble picking up, let alone throw. He raged, and he raged, and he hated everything and everyone. Eventually, he had to stop because there was nothing inanimate left in the room to destroy.

Covered in dust and miscellaneous artifacts that suck to him with drying blood, in the greatest terms, he wanted to torch the whole building and spread that fire across the world, to be rid of everything and everyone in it, including himself. In the least, he wanted to walk back over to Hojo and throw his loose head out a window and watch how far it bounced or how much it splattered. Mostly, he wished for his mind to just shut up for a few minutes. 

When he finally met crimson eyes, Vincent merely continued to study him carefully. He breathed in a shallow breath, tasting metal, blood, and death in the air. Then those watchful eyes made him laugh bitterly at his own craziness.

"Why are you really here, Vincent?" he muttered quietly, his stomach cramping in horror over everything he'd done and wanted to do. "Why don't you stop me? Isn't that what you're here for?"

"I promised I'd make sure you're safe."

"To who?"

"To you, to myself, to Lucrecia," Vincent offered, never taking his eyes off of the younger man. "To everyone."

Sephiroth looked down at his dead father. "At the expense of everyone else?"

"This is nothing compared to what you could do."

The words sprouted tears in his eyes. Quickly they fell only to be replaced by others. "I don't understand why everyone allowed this to happen, why they did this to me." He met Vincent's emotionless gaze and wanted to cry harder. What had happened to the emotion he could usually see on the ex-Turk's face?

"It was nothing against you personally."

"I know that, but..." 

God, he hated the world and the people in it. He hated how sick of a place it was, how corrupt. And there was nothing he could do about it short of destroying. 

Blood tangled hair flickered as he shook his head. Was destruction all he'd ever been taught, his conclusion for everything? Suddenly he felt he understood why he'd destroyed the world in the future. He closed he eyes briefly, envisioning destruction, but then, overly tired of the thoughts, started towards the door. "I'm going to clean off."

He walked away sure in the idea that Vincent would follow and he did. It was still too early for most people to be awake, but the few that did pass him in the hallways stared at him wide-eyed and then quickly retreated. No one tried to stop him, however, but he knew the quiet wouldn't last. 

Once he entered his room, he stripped to nothing as he walked and immediately stepped into the shower, turning on only the hot water, scrubbing blood, sweat, and tears off of his reddening skin and long hair. Minutes later, his waist covered with a towel, brush in hand, he walked out and caught sight of Vincent sitting in a chair across the room. 

Next to him, on the small side table, sat several specks that he knew were the cameras Hojo had confessed had been hidden in his apartment. Every day, he'd been watched, recorded, studied. He turned his head, looking to the undrawn curtains instead of the evidence. Then he walked over to them and pulled a set apart, looking down upon Midgar, soaking in the morning sun as if his body lived on light.

Despite the change he'd inflicted less than an hour before, nothing had really changed except he'd lost one set of prying eyes. Sephiroth smirked his acknowledgement of that fact as he began to brush out his hair. Even after Hojo's death, despite the instability he'd shown, he knew ShinRa would still keep him under their wing if he wanted to be. They would clean up the mess downstairs, make up some story, and act like the truth never happened. That was their way.

But there was no way in hell he was staying anymore.

"I'm leaving ShinRa, but I'm going to destroy everything they have on me. I can't walk away knowing they have recordings of..." He knew now that they had footage of his previous relationship, that they'd videoed every single one of their encounters.

The room was quiet for nearly a minute, except for the brushing of his hair, before Vincent spoke. "The man Hojo talked about..." Vincent started, his voice hesitant. "Was his name Cloud Strife?"

Sephiroth instantly turned around at the name. "You know him?"

At the steady gaze, Vincent looked away, his jaw clenched. The silver-haired man suddenly had the distinct impression that the other man was jealous. The notion was absurd, but he couldn't throw out the assumption. 

They barely knew one another. The gunman had no reason to be jealous. Well, rather, he had to admit again: he knew very little about Vincent; the other man knew way too much about him.

"If you studied me," Sephiroth asked, "then why didn't you know about him?"

"Apparently they didn't show me everything."

If this was how the man would have reacted, the younger man could see why they would have hidden the fact.

Wanting to understand, he muttered, "How do you know him then?"

Vincent huffed a laugh, shaking his head. He sat back in the chair, his hand and claw rubbing over his face. The moment increased to the point that Sephiroth wanted to force the other man to speak. On the bright side, at least the raven-haired man was finally speaking in complete sentences. Finally his hands dropped. "He was my friend. And, well, he would have been your lover anyway, shortly before you die for the first time. Then, when you try to destroy the world, he... He's the one who kills you."

Sephiroth huffed a half-laugh, unbelieving that Cloud could have ever hurt him. And how many times was he supposed to die exactly? "Cloud wouldn't do that."

Would he? His ex-lover had always seemed wise beyond his years, even for a man that was 35 years old, many years older than he'd been. It was one of the reasons the teenager had allowed him into his otherwise miserable life, had clung to Cloud's strength and seemingly endless love for the young soldier. Cloud had filled him with a hope that there was something more out there, that life could be so much better, but the hope couldn't dispel the reality of his life and his commitment to ShinRa and SOLDIER. He hadn't left with his lover because...

If he was honest with himself, he'd been too scared to leave, for more than one reason. Cloud's strength and love hadn't been able to overcome those fears, not completely. Nor had he been able to put his complete trust into his lover. It was the same mistrust he experienced with everyone else but, with Cloud, his own mistrust had hurt Sephiroth so much more.

Again, tears threatened, but this time he held them in. And then he realized the hidden meaning of Vincent's words. "You said they'd sent someone before you, but that the person failed. It was Cloud, wasn't it? He was... He was trying to save me from all of this."

"Yes, they sent him before they sent me."

"He... But he just left me. If he was supposed to stop me... I don't understand."

Vincent frowned, looking down at his own hand caressing the gun in his lap. "Did you notice anything wrong with him when he asked you to leave ShinRa?"

"Well..." Sephiroth thought back to the day, only a few weeks after he'd met the other man. He'd been... "Yes, he... He seemed to be sick or..." Sephiroth didn't want to say dying, but that was the truth. He forced out the vision of greying skin and blonde hair that had clearly been turning white. "Why? What does that mean?"

"I don't know if it's the process of getting here or the fact that this isn't our time or something else, but... Anyone who comes back doesn't live long, days maybe, although those infused with mako and similar strength enhancements seem to fair a bit better."

"What are you saying? He came back knowing it would kill him?" 

Was this why he'd never seen Cloud again after that day?

"Yes."

"And you came back."

The man nodded, not meeting his utterly confused stare. 

At the moment, he could only ignore Vincent's apparent impending death in face of Cloud's.

He should have left with Cloud. Why had he let his fear rule him? The idea that Cloud was alone somewhere, dead, because of him... 

Sephiroth stormed to his dresser, grabbing street clothes and dressing in front of the other man with no sense of modesty. He packed up a bag of some clothes and picked up Masamune to hastily wipe it clean with his damp towel. 

He didn't know where to even start looking for his ex-lover, but that wouldn't stop him from trying.

Vincent didn't say a word until he was heading to the window. "I... I think I may know where he would have gone."

The soon-to-be-ex SOLDIER turned to face the older man, surprised by the words. Perhaps Vincent hadn't been jealous. Perhaps he merely did want to help. Then the memories of concealed confessions of love came to mind. His breathing grew unsettled.

"I'll take you there."

Sephiroth thought on it for a moment, wanting to refuse, but something stopped him. After all, he could have just asked for directions.

Perhaps he didn't refuse because he had some odd desire for companionship as he traveled into the unknown. Or was it something else? He didn't know and didn't want to think about it too deeply at that moment.

The ex-Turk seemed to hold his breath as he waited for an answer, but when the swordsman finally said yes, he was up, transforming, and out the window before Sephiroth could even consider changing his mind. He followed after, into the morning light, flying down the side of the building, then over Midgar. The wind fluttered his damp hair, surely entangling it once again, but he paid it no mind. Flying felt too awesome to allow vanity to take away from the moment. 

Soon they came to a dilapidated church and Sephiroth landed on its roof next to Chaos. After a wink from the beast, that unsettled and twisted Sephiroth's stomach, the man quickly morphed back into his human body. Together, they walked to the edge of a large hole in the roof and peered over inside the structure.

At first, Sephiroth didn't see anything, but he heard something: a humming formed by a woman's voice. It was a sweet song, as if she was singing about fairies, warriors, and far-off lands. When he saw her walk into view, he realized she wasn't a woman. She probably hadn't yet reached her 16th birthday and had a good chance of being closer to 13 or 14. But he wasn't an expert on determining the age of a woman and they were quite a ways above her.

Vincent was the first to jump down. Sephiroth followed but kept his distance from the girl. Two men showing up unexpectedly from the sky, well, he didn't want to scare her off.

However, instead of showing fear, the girl glanced back up from where they'd dropped and then smiled at Vincent, looking at him with obvious wonder. "How can you fall so far and not be hurt?"

Sephiroth couldn't see Vincent's smile, but he could hear it in his voice as he said, "Would you believe me if I said it was magic?"

The girl grinned. "No."

"I wouldn't either." The raven-haired man turned his head, looking at the garden a short distance away. "Flowers in the slums? They're beautiful."

The smile turned full. "Yes, they won't grow anywhere else but here. Well, here and my mom's garden."

Sephiroth watched the two, a bit out of water and holding an impatience he didn't know what to do with. This wasn't the way to perform an interrogation. 

The two walked to the garden and, at the gunman's urging, she named off all of the flowers as she pointed to each type. Quickly, with prying ears, he found out that the girl's name was Aeris and she lived in a house with her mother in another location in the slums. 

Watching the exchange between the two, he found himself glad he hadn't attempted to confront her. Vincent pulled things out of her easily and with a compassion that tried to fool even him. Then again, Vincent could have been truly genuine in his attentions.

However, when Cloud's name did finally come up in the conversation, the girl's face darkened and Sephiroth had to know why immediately, but the girl didn't speak for several long, draining moments.

"He's with my mother, my real mother, I mean." The girl kneeled down to play with a flower, caressing its petals. "When he came here... He wasn't well. But he loved my garden and we talked for a long time." 

The caressing stopped. "He seemed so sad. But he wouldn't tell me why. I think... it would have taken him forever to tell me why. I don't think it was just one thing that bothered him. 

"Well, eventually, I offered him supper at my house." Aeris huffed a little laugh. "It seemed like he knew the way there better than I did. He stayed with us for a few days, helping out, but...

"He got so much worse. One morning..." The girl suddenly looked like she was about to cry. "I found him. He looked... Peaceful, like he'd been having the most wonderful dream." 

She stood up, walking away from Vincent a few steps. "I can show you him. We buried him near the garden, where he said he wanted to be." The teenager finally did cry. "He knew he was dying."

Watching her, Sephiroth couldn't hold back his tears. When they fell to the ground, he looked away, but soon looked back when Vincent stepped forward, reached out a hand, and touched her arm.

She smiled weakly up at him, her face shining with tears in the morning light, placing a hand over the one on her arm. "Come on, I'll take you there."

"Okay," Vincent murmured.

Quietly, she led them. It took an agonizing amount of time, but when they arrived and she pointed towards the grave, Sephiroth immediately went to it, staring down at it, still not quite believing. His renewed tears pained him. He regretted ever saying no to Cloud. 

"I'm so sorry," Sephiroth whispered, his throat constricted. "I didn't know. I wish... I wish you had told me..."

Would he have listened? He didn't know. He might have. But he'd never even gotten the chance to laugh in his face or run away with him, while knowing the truth as to why he was.

The swordsman heard booted footsteps behind him. Then, Vincent stood next to him, his presence overbearing. Finally, at least releasing some of the tension, he murmured, "He probably didn't want to tell you... He probably couldn't even see you as a murderer when he came back. Their original goal was to stop the war, but that didn't happen."

Sephiroth broke into a sob. "I didn't listen to him. I probably didn't even want to listen. I was... so stupid."

The gunman wrapped his arms around him and Sephiroth was too weak of mind to fend it off. He took the warmth the other man offered and cried for what seemed like hours. But then, feeling wetness on his forehead, he realized Vincent was crying as well. That broke him all the more. 

Eventually, they took to sitting on the ground, talking about their experiences with Cloud. Eventually, Aeris brought them something to eat. The food, surprisingly enough, had never before tasted so good.


	7. Protecting Those Loved

Their conversation had turned quiet by the time the food was finished. The streams of sun tried to warm the swordsman. Eventually though, with the thoughts crossing his mind, he no longer wanted the warmth. Neither the sun's or Aeris' and especially not Vincent's.

Sephiroth barely noticed when Aeris stood up and said a quiet word to Vincent. But he did notice her finally as the girl walked away to the place she called home.

When he could no longer see her, he muttered, "What you said before about Cloud being my lover in the future... You know, you're looking at it in the wrong way. What you're talking about is the future when Cloud went back. That is your past." Vincent nodded briefly, frowning, probably wondering where the younger man was headed. "What about the reality before that future? Would I have known him then?"

Vincent shifted his gaze back to the grave. "Yes, you must have. The events still must have unfolded the same, at least for the most part. Why would he have done it, if he hadn't known you? Considering the risks, I don't think he would have come back otherwise."

That left Sephiroth once again contemplating the absurdity of it all. Minutes later, making sure Aeris was still absent, keeping with the silent agreement that they wouldn't discuss such matters in front of her, he couldn't help but ask, "He's out there, isn't he? Like you are."

"Yes..."

Sephiroth eyed the other man at the hesitant word. 

"But he isn't the same person you knew. I mean, when you met him, he... Well, he'd grown up."

The silver-haired man huffed a bit of laughter, but knew the gunman was being totally accurate. How old was Cloud at that moment? Fifteen? Fourteen? Far too young. 

The idea of Cloud, being so young, the fact that he was out there, not knowing what they'd shared, all of it, made him queasy.

When he finally looked up, he realized Vincent had taken to watching him once again. He looked away when their eyes met. The motion left him wondering if he'd ever feel comfortable in the other man's presence. Probably not.

"Do you want to see him?"

The words made his gut hurt for more than one reason. "You'd take me to him?"

"Yes."

Sephiroth finally held Vincent's watchful eye at the word, unbelieving. It was one thing to lead him to a dead man, but quite another to take him to the same man who was very much alive. "Why would you do that?"

"Because..." The gunman's words faltered. He could only hold the younger man's heated gaze for a moment, before looking down. "Because you want to."

The words heated him more and made him hurt more.

"I'm not here to run your life, Sephiroth. I'm just here... I'm trying to make things better than they were."

"Why do you love me so much?" Crimson eyes jerked up to meet his own. "Why did he? If what you say is true, you both should hate me."

"It's... Much more complicated than that. Why did he love you? I suppose I don't know why. I don't really know of the life he had before he came back. We were friends, but friends don't tell each other everything and I never really had the heart to ask."

When Vincent failed to speak of himself, even after the swordsman waited for nearly a minute, an agonizingly long period of time, with himself cursing his own wonderment at the issue, Sephiroth nearly whispered, not sure if he really wanted the other man to hear, "You still haven't told me why you came back."

"I have told you..."

"I'm talking about the underlining reasons."

"Do you really want to know?"

Sephiroth was asking himself the same question. Why did he want to know? Why was he allowing a bubble to form that was sure to burst, that he didn't even know if he wanted in the first place? The notions, the reactions, all of it was absurd. 

Nonetheless, he only hesitated briefly before he said with more strength than he felt, "Yes."

Vincent eyed him for surely far longer than was necessary, making the younger man want to squirm but somehow he held himself in check. Finally, he murmured, "Even before you were born, I loved you. I loved your mother. I wanted to protect both of you, but I failed so utterly... My dreams, my nightmares... Both of you were my dreams." The man smiled beautifully. "And my nightmares.

"When Cloud came down to the basement and woke me, my first thoughts were unfortunately of revenge against Hojo. I went with Cloud because I thought I had the chance of killing the man for what he'd done. But... When I understood what you'd become, what I'd allowed to happen, my regret... I was consumed with it." His smile turned sharp. "Eventually, I did kill Hojo and it did nothing. Your mother was still in so much pain and so were you."

"So... You're really just here to protect me from myself?" Sephiroth couldn't help his small laugh that accompanied the shaking of his head.

"Pretty much, but..." Vincent looked to him, seeming to search. "You want to know why I love you." Sephiroth found himself holding his breath at the words and then tried to breathe steadily. "Because I'm consumed with you? Maybe. I just... I want you to have something good. I want you to be happy. And I will do everything in my power to make that happen. Most people would call that love, I think."

The words brought a heated blush to his cheeks and he looked anywhere except for the gunman. Except for the consumed part, it all sounded so, well, fatherly... But why had the man fucked him then? Perhaps because he'd practically forced the sex on Vincent? Maybe. But the man had surely enjoyed it as much as he had. Then again, it had just been sex. 

But then the soft touches... The kissing and near molesting in the hallway... 

Sephiroth shifted aquamarine eyes to Vincent, trying to read the man's thoughts, but then shifted them back to Cloud's grave. "I want to see him."

"Okay." Vincent stood up, brushing at his clothing. "But if you don't mind, I'd like to change. It's a long journey."

The younger man looked his companion over and realized Vincent hadn't changed clothes for days, although any ripeness was apparently concealed by the man's beauty. Surely that wouldn't last forever, although apparently the man could sleep in a basement for years and, well... Perhaps Vincent hadn't smelled the best after that. 

Mentally shaking off his unproductive thoughts, he said, "Yes, of course."

Without saying a goodbye to Aeris, they flew part of the way and walked the rest to a hotel in the slums. Upon entering the grimy, dust insulated room, Vincent did as he'd said, showering and getting dressed in an outfit that was a match to what he'd been previously wearing.

Sephiroth couldn't help but watch what he could. He'd never seen the other man naked before. The scars that littered his pale skin told of horrors he wasn't sure he wanted to know about. His own few, barely-detectable battle scars paled in comparison. Had they been made at Hojo's hand? Or during Vincent's life as a Turk? Had Sephiroth himself made them? Perhaps it was a mix of all of the above.

When his continued stare became obvious, Vincent met his gaze while slipping on his shirt. 

"Did Hojo..." Sephiroth looked away, embarrassed with his own interest and the horror that was most likely evident on his face.

"You don't want to know, trust me."

No, he didn't want to know. He didn't.

The room holding an unnatural quiet, only Vincent's dressing and their breaths altered its state.

Eventually, as the day moved on to allow yet another day to break, they stood on the outskirts of a town called Nebelheim. 

"When you see him..." Vincent touched his arm lightly. The touch felt all too good at the impending experience that felt like inevitable doom. "Remember that he doesn't know you, not like you know him."

"I know that."

"But he does know who you are. You're his inspiration."

Sephiroth frowned at the other man. Another groupie? He couldn't think of Cloud that way, but perhaps his ex-lover was. The idea brought more doom upon his head.

As they walked into town, the people that noticed him, that obviously knew who he was, took an immediate interest in him. After all, it was rare for him to visit such a small town. Soon, he had a small flock of curious people, both younger people following him and the older ones watching from a distance. 

His eyes scanned the people he saw, trying to find an all too familiar face. Within moments, he saw him emerging from a house in the distance, probably trying to find out what the commotion was about.

A man approached Sephiroth, probably the town's mayor, and he immediately walked away as the man's mouth opened. 

Cloud had walked up to a couple of other people, whispered to them, but nonetheless had eyes only for him. As he walked closer, Cloud seemed to realize that Sephiroth only had eyes for him as well. The smile cleaned off of his face as a man much taller than himself, and with a reputation that exceeded all others, nearly stalked right up to him.

Cloud was as beautiful as he'd been, although the teenager's present self was admittedly an extremely younger version which disorientated the older man.

With a firmness that surprised him, he stated, "Come with me."

The blonde boy's jaw dropped. Without waiting for a reply, sure he'd lose his nerve, the older man walked back towards the entrance of the town. He was relieved and terrified at the same time when he heard unsure booted feet behind him. He walked past Vincent who leaned casually against a building, who didn't even look up as he passed. He didn't turn back around until he'd spent nearly a minute getting away from the town, away from the gawking faces.

The shorter teenager had managed to keep up but stopped instantly when Sephiroth turned around and probably glared at him. But the ex-future General couldn't help the expression. 

Even from the first moment he'd seen the younger man, he knew Cloud had an innocence that the man he'd met hadn't had. Cloud was squirming noticeably before he finally said with a soft voice, "Is there something I can help you with, sir?"

Suddenly he understood what Vincent had gone through days before. And what the man before him had gone through so long ago. 

After another few squirms, Sephiroth said gravely, "No. There isn't."

The teenager's whole demeanor deflated at the words.

Why had he come here? He'd known Cloud would be young, too young, but he just hadn't expected... this. He knew Vincent had warned him and he'd known already what to expect, but the ideas couldn't match the reality.

"You're so..."

The man's young face frowned, aging him a bit. "I'm so what?"

"Cloud, don't join SOLDIER."

Blonde spikes shook with the boy's head. "I don't understand. You came all the way here to tell me that? Why would you..." Cloud suddenly seemed flooded with embarrassment. "Why don't you want me to join? What have I done wrong?"

Why? Why? He couldn't tell Cloud the truth. First, the boy probably wouldn't believe it. Second, the boy might think he was crazy and rightfully so. Third, it might have had the opposite effect and Cloud would have joined SOLDIER anyway.

But then he knew why. "SOLDIER is being dismantled." Determined, he knew at that moment it would be true if he had anything to do with it. It was the only way he could be sure Cloud would be safe from it.

He watched Cloud's heart deaden. "But why? I-I wanted to..."

Wanted to be like the Great Sephiroth? It was a story he'd heard far more than one time.

"I don't understand why you came here to tell me this. I mean, don't you have phones or something in Midgar?"

Sephiroth couldn't help his short laugh, seeing the absurd situation as Cloud saw it. Ignoring the questions, instead, he growled, trying to get the teenager to obey, "Cloud, if the world falls apart soon, I want you to make sure you and your mother are safe." He said this, envisioning what Vincent had told him only hours before about what he'd done to the small town, to its people, to Cloud.

He knew now he'd been born in this town. He looked over it and its people who still hung at the outskirts, who watched their conversation with an obvious curiosity. "Keep everyone here safe for me. Can you do that, Cloud?"

"Yes, yes, of course. But what's going to happen?"

Sephiroth smiled and he watched Cloud's heart skip a beat. "I don't know, but it'll be grand."


	8. The Commitment

Sephiroth could feel Cloud's eyes on him as he walked back to Nebelheim, back to the man waiting for him. He didn't dare look back, but every step he took hurt him more. He never heard Cloud's footsteps and could only assume the man stared at him as much as he wanted to stare back.

When he finally stood in front of the red-cloaked man, he looked back but could no longer see the spot he'd left the teenager. 

"You could always stay here, Sephiroth. You don't have to leave him."

The younger man huffed a humorless laugh, shaking his head slightly, still trying to find some trace of his ex-lover in the distance. "Don't tempt me." The shaking continued until he looked upon Vincent. "I can't be here with him. I mean, if I'd done it before in some other life, it was because I didn't know what the fuck was going on. Now, it just... I'm not going to replace Cloud with someone who..." He pointed briefly to the distance, towards the teenager, hoping Vincent, the only person he could talk to about all of this, was understanding him. "He may be Cloud, but that's not the man I fell in love with. I'm not going to fuck up that boy's life because I love someone that person is never going to be. He'll never be him, if I can help it."

Vincent smiled at him, a real one, then some kind of inner anger seemed to take over and he looked away.

"What?"

Vincent huffed. "Just more regrets."

Instant anger boiled in his own body. Sephiroth took a step forward but managed to resist the urge to slam the other man against the wall. "I'm only going to say this once. Stop regretting everything. I'm tired of it, because it doesn't matter anymore. Do you understand? If you really came here to change the future, then fucking change it and stop dwelling in it."

Said the man who regretted so much and felt so much pain for so many years. But truly, at that moment, Sephiroth was so tired of all of his own misery, heartache, and loneliness. All of it. And he knew he'd come to that point because, for once, he actually was going to do something about it, outside of dwelling.

Crimson eyes watched him with something that resembled fear and embarrassment, all rolled into one, before the man finally said, "Okay."

He didn't know whether or not Vincent meant it, although, considering everything, the gunman probably couldn't have had he wanted to. But that didn't matter. Any effort was good enough for the moment.

After a few moments, Vincent finally muttered a bit breathlessly, "So, what are you going to do then."

Sephiroth smirked at the other man's unease, unable to help it. "I'm going to tear that fucking place apart."

Watching the unease grow, his smirk increased to a full smile, as he realized something. He rested a hand by the side of Vincent's head, drawing just that much closer, close enough to breathe in the soft scent of soap, not caring that the half the town was probably watching his incivility. 

"I know now why you scared me. But you don't scare me anymore." He moved his lips closer to the gunman's ear, not wanting to hear his own words more than he had to, so he could whisper, "At least not for now. I couldn't do this with you because I-I don't want to lose someone else I love."

Vincent's breathing increased considerably, as did his own.

His mind stumbling over the words he'd spoken, he added, "Not that I'm going to proclaim love at this moment. But I can't deal with losing someone else. I know I'm one to lecture you about regret, but I can't deal with a relationship right now, do you understand? So please stop telling me you love me."

Despite the whispered words, perhaps from the stress of the moment, he couldn't stop himself from claiming Vincent's mouth. He ignored the sudden whispers behind them easily with the heat of the other man's lips. It took all of his strength to not grind and put on more of a show the small village was already getting. 

When he realized he could never get what he wanted at that moment without putting on a full-fledged show, he pulled away. It was then that Vincent finally moved, grabbing his shirt, not letting him go more than a few inches. The man was stunning, as flushed as he himself surely was. It was a moment he never wanted to leave.

"God... please..." Vincent breathed.

It was then that he noticed something he'd never wanted to see again: Nestled in amongst raven hair was white. The amount was so small that had he not known in the back of his mind to look for it, he probably wouldn't have noticed it, but it was there. He touched a lock, unable to help it.

"How long have you been here? Cloud was here for weeks before..."

When Sephiroth didn't continue, Vincent murmured, "Almost three months."

"But... Why did you wait so long?"

"I..." The gunman huffed a small laugh. "I didn't want to ruin your life."

Sephiroth couldn't help his own short-lived laugh. "That is the stupidest thing you've ever said to me." Then, feeling near tears, he couldn't help but add, "Do you have any idea how selfish you are?"

"Yes."

Sephiroth kissed him again, lost in everything, using the other man's mouth as an anchor. The fist at his chest pulled him closer until their bodies finally touched. Sephiroth couldn't stop his moan. It was after that moment that he heard footsteps coming towards them. Remembering where they were, he pulled away and watched the man, he'd before presumed was the mayor, slow his footsteps considerably.

A few feet away, the man finally said, "Sirs, we would like to offer you both a room in our inn, so that you can... Recover from your journey."

Unable to help himself, Sephiroth burst with a short laugh, glanced back at Vincent, who showed no signs of refusal, although he didn't think for a second the older man would, and then looked back and finally said, "Okay. Thank you."

"Good, good, let me show you the way," the man said with a genuine smile, probably relieved out of his mind.

When he turned to follow the other man, he realized Cloud had been standing close by, watching them for who knew how long. Sephiroth felt his stomach clamp when he met the boy's blue eyes. By the time they walked into the designated room, the heat in Sephiroth's body had chilled to almost nothing. He watched as the older man closed the door. When Vincent didn't turn around, the air only thickened, making it difficult to breathe.

"We could leave now. We don't have to do this, despite what the town thinks."

Sephiroth huffed, accepting the bait gratefully. But the humor was lost when Vincent still didn't turn around.

"Tell me again why you love me."

At that, the man's cloak twirled as he turn around. He eyed Sephiroth, probably trying to figure out why he was asking, especially since the swordsman had told him specifically to never say such a thing again until permission was given. But the words were permission, weren't they, even if they were far sooner than one could have predicted?

Sephiroth could feel himself falling into another trap and it scared him as much as it filled him with hope for a relationship with a man who would soon be dead. But at least this time, he knew the truth and could go into it with full understanding of what would come.

Unable to keep ahold of Vincent's gaze, gripping his sword's hilt for a brief moment, he then released it from his belt and leaned its great length against a wall. Vincent watched him do it and then removed his rifle and cape and laid them on a nearby table. They both stilled and the moment lengthened.

The silver-haired man crossed his arms over his chest. "You don't have to tell me."

Without further hesitation, Vincent smiled and walked up to him and used both hands to put those muscular arms into tight grips. "I like it more when you're an asshole."

"I bet you do." 

Cimson eyes flickered up before they watched Vincent's own hands tug at Sephiroth's t-shirt. The minimal request was all it took for Sephiroth to lower his arms and allow his new lover access. Vincent lifted his shirt and bent down, kissing his neck, before lifting the shirt over his head, while he laid more kisses on his flexed chest and rib cage. Sephiroth finished the job, letting the shirt drop to the floor, as the older man got down onto his knees, nipping and licking his stomach. 

The younger man couldn't help his groan as fingers and metal worked on his pants, undoing them and partially exposing the length that was tucked inside the material. The lips continued on to that exposed part, licking it, making him hiss. He had to force himself to not force the situation, suddenly full of wanton desire for the man who slowly worked his length out of his pants. God, it was so damned slow. When the man's tongue finally touched the tip of his erection, he gasped weaved his hands into raven hair. It took all of his strength to not pull on that hair.

The tongue lapped slowly, circling, maddening him.

"Please, Vincent."

At the words, the man took the head into his mouth, sucking on it, drawing the precum out. He gripped with fists at the hair in his hands, surely causing his lover pain, but he couldn't help it. He could already feel an orgasm rising up, so he hushed the other man, begging him to be still. So much for hurrying up. 

When he felt himself back under control, he lessened his hold and Vincent took to bobbing his mouth leisurely up and down the length, lapping at him with his tongue, clearly enjoying the size of him, the taste of him. The sounds and feel of his mouth drove Sephiroth crazy.

Gradually, thankfully, the older man picked up the pace. Vincent's name rumbling out of his chest, along with urgings, beggings, until he couldn't take any more. He gripped again at raven hair and held Vincent to him as he came hard down the man's throat. 

When he was empty and Vincent had swallowed all of the cum, he released his hold and came down onto his own knees, kissing Vincent heatedly, tasting himself. Vincent's nails and claws scrapped at his back as he realized Vincent had yet to come. The notion and the knowledge of what Vincent wanted to do to him rehardened him fully.

The gunman pulled away, and growled, "Come here," while standing and pulling on his hand, leading him to the bed. Then he lowered Sephiroth's pants and urged him to sit on the bed, got back down onto his knees and unlaced and removed his boots, then his pants completely. When he stood back up, Sephiroth had to acknowledge that he was naked while Vincent was still fully dressed. He couldn't help but blush as Vincent looked over every part of his flesh.

"You are so fucking beautiful."

If the man hadn't noticed his blush, surely he did now as his cheeks, his whole body went aflame.

Sephiroth swallowed, trying to regain some composure. "Is that why you love me?"

Vincent grinned with a small huff. He laid his claw on Sephiroth's chest, urging him back, then to lay down. Still, without removing any clothing, he straddled Sephiroth's legs, near worshiping the younger man's body with his hand and claw. Sephiroth hissed and groaned with the movements, making Vincent growl with his own desire.

"I love your passion. Your commitment, even when you're being fucked."

Sephiroth groaned at the words. "I love being fucked by you."

"I love fucking you. I love how you open up to me and take me inside of you."

The younger man gripped at the hands on his chest, pulling Vincent down, claiming his mouth once again. Between a kiss, he hissed, "Please fuck me. I want you inside of me."

Without further delay, Vincent moved to the side and urged the younger man onto his side. Then he spooned him, working at his own pants. Quickly the man's erection pressed against his hole, begging for entrance. Even with his skin slick, it still would have taken some effort, and it clearly took considerable effort to not thrust into him as Vincent pumped his hips slightly, his hand getting a dose of spit, which he then rubbed at the length of his own cock. The slippery sounds made Sephiroth pump his own erection in rhythm. 

Then Vincent was inside of him, pushing, before relenting a bit, and then pushing again. The cycle kept up until both men were panting and Vincent's groin pressed against his lover's backside. Vincent held him there, thrusting only slightly, clearly not ready to leave him. Nonetheless, Sephiroth couldn't stop his own aggressive rubbing of his own cock, attaining a momentum that would make him come quickly. Vincent grabbed his hand, stilling him, and Sephiroth realized that Vincent was trying to keep himself from coming. Relenting, he stopped his struggles and forced himself to merely enjoy Vincent's calming whispers and kisses at his neck, ear, and cheek.

He'd heard from somewhere that if someone said they loved you in the heat of the moment, you were supposed to take the words with a grain of salt. And he used that as his excuse when he whispered between Vincent's nothings, "I love you."

At the words, Vincent stilled for only a moment, before he went back to nipping at his jaw. "Say that again."

"I love you." It was a hell of a time for tears to well up. "Please don't leave me."

"Only death could take me from you."

The words did sprout tears in his eyes and, after Vincent pulled his hips back, the man's long thrust pulled a moan from Sephiroth's lips. Vincent fucked him slowly, almost with calculation, well, probably with extreme calculation as Vincent groaned with every thrust, trying to keep it slow and long-lasting.

Between one, Sephiroth hissed, "I love you. I love you so fucking much." And he meant it.


	9. Sculpting the Landscape of the Mind

The raven-haired man, lying on his side next to him, breathed slowly. Had Sephiroth not been watching the nearly non-existent movements of his chest, Vincent probably would have seemed more dead than alive with his sickly pale skin.

Also on his side, close enough to kiss the other man had he pushed forward a few inches, Sephiroth hadn't moved for what felt like hours, but it was probably still less than one. His head rested on the pillow he clutched, his hair a tangle behind him and underneath him. He should have been sleeping with the other man. When was the last time he'd slept? But he couldn't make aquamarine eyes close beyond pretending.

With the days growing ever chillier, he'd long before taken refuge under the blankets, although he was still naked and Vincent still fully clothed. Part of him wanted another chance to examine the many markings littering his lover's body. The other part was glad Vincent was still dressed and a certain extremity was tucked back inside. Despite the coverage though, he still knew full well what was hidden. His backside wouldn't let him forget, not with the wetness still inside of him, although any damage caused by their rutting had long since healed. 

Rutting? He had a feeling Vincent would have called it making love.

But it had been loving making, hadn't it? He'd said he loved Vincent, at a moment he'd meant it. Now... Now he understood why talk during sex shouldn't be taken seriously. In fact, he should have learned that lesson with Cloud.

But he did love Cloud, didn't he? 

Sephiroth shook his head slightly, squeezing his eyes shut, to bite back emotions that threatened. Just days before he was telling himself to not get involved with anyone, that it only brought misery. How could he have forgotten so easily? 

Bodies and their fucking hormones. For the perfect mix, add on a heap of emotions that felt so real before retrospect. It was a recipe for poison.

Of course, the fact that Vincent seemed to fully believe, in his own commitment to the young ex-SOLDIER, didn't assist in Sephiroth's desire to separate himself from everything. But Sephiroth couldn't let Vincent's supposed emotions seep in. He couldn't open himself up. He knew seemingly unwavering commitment from another person was a weak spot for him, a vulnerability he knew all too well. And he'd let the vulnerability show itself yet again. As Cloud's love had done, this man's unadulterated desire for him would surely only bring him untold pain when Sephiroth fucked it up. And he would fuck it up somehow. It was inevitable. He could never keep a relationship stable. It was safer, smarter to keep distance. 

If only the man lying next to him wasn't so unbelievably passionate... And if only he didn't suddenly know the real reasons behind everything that had previously made so little sense...

With those two thoughts in mind, he rolled over, slipping from underneath the covers, and hurriedly, but silently dressed in the clothing he'd worn to Nebelheim. He remembered Vincent's earlier suggestion that he stay with Cloud and shook his head. The fact that he hadn't even brought his things, had left them in Vincent's hotel room, should have told Vincent that he'd had no intention of staying.

He'd just had to see Cloud, to make sure he was all right. To make sure his previous lover would never ever do the things the future said he could do. To even consider more than that... It wasn't in him to do it. Not that day. Perhaps never, although never was an awfully long time. 

A light growl filled his chest as he realized he was once again welcoming vulnerability. Until he could settle things, until he could feel like he could relax for a moment, he couldn't let anyone close. Keeping distance was just the sane thing to do.

Finally, he grabbed Masamune, but couldn't help one last look at the man sleeping on the inn room's bed. His heart thudded when he realized crimson eyes watched him. How long Vincent had been awake, he didn't know, but he couldn't stop his momentum now that it had started. He couldn't stop or he feared he end up once again in the other man's arms. Holding true to that commitment, he turned around and stalked out the door, hearing Vincent shift in the bed behind him.

When he stood outside, not bothering to hide the ability, he took off into the air, heading back towards Midgar, fully aware that there was an extremely good chance that Vincent, or rather Chaos followed him.

By the time he reached Midgar, the sun had well since set. The city was nonetheless ablaze with light, both streaming from the reactors and the many lights that littered the upper plates and ShinRa tower.

The city... It almost seemed peaceful. He stopped to hover, wondering at it and its inability to detect impending doom. 

Vincent had told him he'd nearly destroyed every inch of Midgar with a summon. If he hadn't, how long would the peacefulness have lasted? Of course, Vincent had also told him about Avalanche. Perhaps if he hadn't come along, that group would have destroyed it instead. 

Peace was a frivolous thing, so easily provoked into chaos and destroyed. People didn't truly want peace. Well, at least, some people didn't, and they unfortunately tended to be the ones who had the ambition to ruin it for everyone else.

He looked down at the specks that went on in their daily lives. They were just people. Most of them would have had a difficult time picking up a gun to defend themselves, let alone actually stopping the damage he could do. Most of them deserved ShinRa and their tyrannical behavior as little as he did.

He knew then that he had to be careful.

Wings flapped hard behind him, bringing the gunman's form to a halt. He looked over his shoulder, at the beast who growled as its eyes ripped apart the landscape, who probably hungered for devastation if Chaos was any fit to its name.

Sephiroth smirked at it. The temptation, to allow the beast to feed its rage, bled him, but he couldn't allow it to overcome him. He had to do this right.

"Have you ever wondered how to best destroy an organization? I've contemplated it for years." He crossed his arms over his chest, looking back onto ShinRa tower. "It's not enough to merely kill those on top. You have to kill them and the lower ones and anyone else with any ambition. And that's probably why it's hardly ever done. And why it's usually only a dragon that will go after another one. Take Wutai, for instance. We had to destroy them because they questioned us and our 'divine' rule, and because they were a threat. I killed those who showed any defiance, and then some. I changed the tide of the war and kept this dragon on top of the world."

He looked back again. Chaos stared back at him, its leathery wings ever flapping.

Then the beast smirked. "I say we kill the little rodents."

Sephiroth huffed a laugh and smiled down at the 'rodents'. "It would be so easy. But if you try, I'll kill you."

Chaos huffed itself and Sephiroth heard its wings follow as he came upon the ShinRa building. He entered through his apartment window that was hidden behind thick folds of black curtains. The rooms appeared untouched, except for the absent video cameras, and that didn't surprise him. Outside of his final exit the other morning, they had footage on probably most, if not all of his movements, including the death of Hojo. There was little reason to pry in his rooms.

He was more worried about Angeal and Genesis, although neither man knew a thing, except for the fact that he'd fucked the man behind him.

Then the obvious occurred to him, as an unwelcome urge to defend his newfound lover hit him. The possibilities, of what could happen if anyone realized Vincent was from the future, a fact he'd accepted long before, made his stomach turn over. "Will anyone here recognize you?"

Having changed back into his human form when they entered the apartment, Vincent frowned. "Perhaps, but it's been many years since I worked for ShinRa. I don't look the same as I did." Sephiroth frowned back, not quite believing. "Well, my hair was considerably shorter. And I wore a suit."

Sephiroth tried to picture the gunman in a suit and cropped hair and no claw. It was difficult. "I suppose."

Quietly, with years of practice under his belt, the swordsman stripped and once again donned his uniform. He also took a few minutes to brush out his tangled mess of hair. Then he set to work braiding it into one large chunk down his back, tucking it inside the back of his coat, to keep the hair from gaining a strangle hold on him or anything else.

As he felt it fall against the small of his back, Vincent suddenly walked up to him, grabbed him by his chest straps, and pulled him into a kiss that took the younger man's breath away. Sephiroth found his hands weaving into raven hair, his mouth deepening the kiss, his mind unwilling to let Vincent go. 

God, he was so weak. 

Perhaps this was why they'd kept him from others until he was much older and thoroughly manipulated. Surely they knew that, underneath all the perfection, he was so soft. Or perhaps, unintentionally, they'd made him this way.

It was Vincent who pulled away first, panting as much as the ex-SOLDIER did. "Don't get yourself killed."

"I'm not going to die."

"You can be killed, Sephiroth. Don't let them."

The swordsman shook his head slightly. "If only ShinRa knew in the future that you'd be helping me. I'm sure you never would have made it here."

Vincent chuckled, straightening out the straps he'd shifted in his harsh grip. "Actually, they're the ones who sent me back."

"Who sent you back?"

"Rufus Shinra."

That boggled his mind. Why would Rufus, the spoiled brat son of the president, send Vincent back to stop him? If it was true, why wasn't Vincent stopping him now from destroying ShinRa? Or was he trying to in some psychological mind twist?

As if answering his internal questions, the gunman murmured, "There are some people here who shouldn't be in power. There are others though who don't deserve to die. And yet others who are redeemable. In the end though, I'm hardly someone suitable for serving judgment and I no longer know the future."

Yes, this had to be some psychological mind fuck and it was unfortunately working. He gritted his teeth, trying to control the boiling in his gut. After a moment, when he was sure he could control his voice, he hissed, "Then how exactly would you propose we deal with this... situation?"

The smile that warmed Vincent's face maddened him even more because he knew the gunman knew he'd won in the game of logic. 

God, he wanted to take this man down to the floor and fuck him mercilessly, and that made him boil for a whole other reason. He suddenly wished he had a nearby wall he could slam him against so that he could ravish him and not have to worry about him moving away. Then Vincent's smiled lessened as the man seemed to sense or perhaps even see the change in him. So much for distance.

To confirm or reject whatever notions were in his beautiful head, Sephiroth growled, "When this is over, I'm going to know what every part of you feels and tastes like."

Vincent's breath hitched when Sephiroth started his tasting at his jaw and neck. Sephiroth's hand went directly to the length at Vincent's groin, teasing it, pulling on it, bringing it to harden fully, while his other hand, gripped and kneaded at his buttocks. It only took a few moments before the gunman pressed his body against him, showing him his desire.

But then, in some fluttering second call to logic, Vincent groaned, "God... I thought you were waiting until this was over."

It was in that moment that Sephiroth realized that their relationship probably drove Vincent as crazy as it drove him. "I am..." He said the words, although his body said differently. Proving it, still not ready to let him go, Sephiroth kissed him slowly as they ground their hips against one another. He wanted to take him to the floor, to the bed, but then he definitely wouldn't be able to stop. Surely the lack of sleep and food was eroding his sensibilities, but his science-enhanced body didn't seem to care much. 

It was Vincent who finally slowed down, urging him to do the same with a firm hand and claw at his backside. He hushed him like a baby and that only made Sephiroth want him more. Nonetheless, he relented, trying to bring sanity back to his mind.

Eventually, Vincent rested his forehead against Sephiroth's and the two merely breathed each other's breaths.

"Okay, let's do what you originally intended and destroy the files they have against you and we can work our way from there."

That sounded reasonable enough and he nodded. Vincent grabbed his hand, kissed him one final time, and led him to the apartment's front door.


	10. Taking Down the System

The hallways were quiet as they traveled to the inner bowels of the facility, to the record rooms. Too quiet. But that was probably because Sephiroth searched every corridor with his eyes as they passed, hunting for anything that could have been considered life, something he didn't normally do in the building he'd spend the majority of his life in. He knew that hidden behind the walls there was life, people relaxing, sleeping, unaware there was a traitor within their midst.

When they reached the elevator, he stole a glace to Vincent. The moment he used his keycard, ShinRa would be aware of their presence, if they weren't already. Of course, the other option, shooting and slashing through the place, would have only triggered alarms and brought the building's forces down on top of them. 

Vincent shrugged more with his eyes than his body. "The quiet approach has its advantages."

"Yeah." 

At least, by using the keycard, ShinRa would have more of a choice on how to handle the situation, and would hopefully choose a quieter, saner approach, which was presently their own plan.

By the time they reached the floor with the record rooms, not encountering a single soul, Sephiroth was certain that everyone had been ordered to remain in their rooms. The building was never that quiet, especially when it wasn't even midnight yet. It filled him with notion that ShinRa still didn't want him dead, at least not yet.

When they entered the first room with a computer, Vincent sat down at it and, using Sephiroth's login, immediately went to work, exiting to the command line, searching for anything that seemed relevant, but when he attempted to delete a directory, a command Sephiroth should have had access to, he couldn't. 

"They want to see what we're doing," Sephiroth muttered.

Vincent didn't look back, but did take a small drive out of his cloak and plugged it into the computer, and then kept typing. "Probably. Fortunately, some of the people who designed and worked on this system were gracious enough to share their knowledge with us."

Sephiroth restraightened and frowned at the back of the man's head. Why would Vincent have been trained on this computer system? Unless he'd specifically come back to exploit it. The swordsman suddenly had the terrible feeling that he might have made a mistake in trusting this man. 

In a matter of seconds, he shoved around everything in his mind that he knew about the other man, trying to find some hint of possible betrayal. It wasn't difficult to find lots of possibilities underlining the other man's true intentions, but betrayal... He didn't know. And he felt foolish for putting so much trust into the man that he'd stopped looking for any signs of it.

But no, while nobody was as good as Vincent seemed to be, the gunman also couldn't be that merciless, that deceitful. There had to be something real to everything he'd said and done. Or was Sephiroth just the biggest perfect idiot in history?

The younger man couldn't stop his feelings of betrayal from creeping into his voice, as he growled, "What are you going to do?"

Vincent paused, turning his head and looking up at him. "I'm going to help you. And then I'm going to take down the reactors and then destroy their systems."

"Why would you take down the reactors?"

"Because, while you may have almost destroyed the planet in days, even if you aren't going destroy it anymore, ShinRa will eventually do it anyway, within a decade or two. They're killing the planet."

"Killing the planet? What are you talking about?"

"Sephiroth, I'm sorry. I would like to explain everything to you, but right now, I'm constrained on time. I have to do this now. I might not have another chance. If you're going to try to stop me, then do it, otherwise..."

Sephiroth took a step back as the other man, true to his word, went back to work on the system. He didn't know what to do, and he felt utterly foolish because some part of him still trusted the other man. But Vincent knew more than he did, didn't he? He'd already proven he did. And younger man had trusted the other man this far. 

If this had truly been Vincent's only intention the whole time, why had he waited so long to come to Sephiroth, when, with every passing hour, Sephiroth could see his condition degrading? Perhaps he truly had just been thinking only of him and his happiness. Sephiroth couldn't help his half-laugh at the thought.

"You should have told me about this before now..."

Vincent paused again, just long enough to say, "I should have."

The swordsman stood there for what felt like hours, watching the ex-Turk, disturbed by the amount of trust he couldn't banish from his mind. A few minutes later, the lights flickered as the backup generator came on. Then his body jerked when the fire alarm blared. 

Vincent stood up, taking the drive out in the motion. The whole process had taken less than five minutes. His voice loud enough to be heard over the alarm, Vincent informed him with, "I've turned the sprinkler system off for this floor. With the way the building is structured, the fire won't reach beyond it."

"What fire?" Oh...

"I will explain everything to you, I swear it."

Sephiroth gritted his teeth, shaking his head, wishing the betrayal he felt wasn't so evident on his face, but he couldn't help it. He also couldn't help but shout, "Did you mean -any- of it? Anything you said to me?"

"I meant every word of it."

"You're fucking liar!"

"Maybe. But I'm still not your biggest concern right now. If you want to be free of this life, burn this place."

The ex-SOLDIER looked around at the files, papers, books, nearly every trace of their civilization contained on a single floor. The ShinRa building was considered one of the safest and most structurally sound buildings on the planet. Now, the idea of hiding almost every word ShinRa owned all in one place seemed preposterous. Then he looked back at his 'lover' and he laughed briefly. "Hojo was right. You are an insurgent."

Vincent shook his head. "We don't have time for this."

Sephiroth could feel the fizzle in the air as the other man called to the materia embedded in his rifle. A firestorm exploded across the room, generating a heat Sephiroth could instantly feel on his skin. Both men staggered back, covering their eyes from the burning light. The man's materia were incredibly powerful and shouldn't have been used in such a small, enclosed place.

Tell that to the gunman who stalked out of the room and Sephiroth followed after. Every room was unlocked, Sephiroth presuming Vincent had made that fact so, and Vincent wasted no time in bringing each of them to flames. Smoke choked the younger man as he followed behind, dumbstruck by the ferocity in Vincent's every fiber of being. And he'd been frightened by Chaos.

With over half of the chore done, Sephiroth stopped when he swore he heard running feet, then he ran in that direction, not quite sure what he was going to do about it, but nonetheless needing to deal with the new situation.

Sephiroth turned a corner and skidded to a halt when he caught sight of the two men who he called his friends. The other two men came to a halt as well at his sudden appearance, but then Angeal continued on until he reached his side. Genesis was a few steps behind.

"What are you two doing here?" Sephiroth shouted over the alarm.

Angeal covered half of his face with his shirt and hand, but not enough to block his voice as he shouted back, "Lazard sent us up here to talk to you."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, he said... Well, he didn't say all that much, but he told us to bring you to him."

"Come on, Sephiroth, this place is burning to the ground," Genesis shouted with an arm over his mouth.

Then the alarm silenced and floor went nearly black as the backup power shut down. The only light came from the intense flames that shot out of the rooms.

Angeal grabbed him by the upper arm, attempting to drag him back the way they'd come. His eyes blared confusion when Sephiroth ripped away from the solid grip.

"I can't leave yet."

Genesis bucked downwards when flames exploded in a room behind them. "Why the hell would you want to stay?!"

"I have to make sure it's finished."

"Sephiroth?!" Angeal shouted as Sephiroth turned around and ran back the way he'd come. "Wait! For god's sake, did you have something to do with this?!"

"Just get out of here!" The silver-haired man shouted to the men behind him when he heard footsteps following him.

The men behind him unfortunately didn't stop and Sephiroth didn't have the time to try to force them to retreat. At least they were all traveling to the hallways where the fire was newer and less intense.

By the time he found Vincent, the man had reached the last of the rooms. Sephiroth stopped. When Vincent caught sight of them, he instantly raised his gun at all of them. Then the younger man was forced to stop his friends with a slash of his sword when they tried to keep going towards the apparent cause of the whole situation.

Sephiroth turned around and could see the clear shock in Angeal's eyes when the raven-haired man growled, exasperated, "Sephiroth, what's going on here?"

Startling him, the look was even worse in Genesis' eyes. 

"I don't want to fight you. Please, don't force me to. Neither of you will win."

The hurt only increased in Angeal's eyes but Genesis' turned hard.

Distracting all three of them, Vincent once again became red motion, streaking out of the room, to the next and the next where fire exploded out of each, forcing them to follow after, whether merely to follow or to stop him. In the last room, the motion transformed into a beast which burst out of a thick glass window. The three of them rushed at the metal frame and clutched it, fire raging behind them. 

With the heat only growing more intense, Sephiroth knew was no way to make it to the stairwell on the other side of the building, but he had to make sure his friends got out.

It was then, in the dark of the night, that Chaos appeared, diving at them, at Genesis, grabbing at him. The redhead fought until one claw had a chokehold on his neck as the beast took off into the air, with a hissed, "Be still, little brat."

Wasting no time, Sephiroth grabbed Angeal and took off into the air. Angeal, at least, had the sense to not fight and instead clutched at him in clear fright as they ascended. Below them buzzed the sound of thousands of telephones ringing in union.


	11. Believe the Truth

"Such commitment." Chaos chuckled over its shoulder as they flew, "Don't you see? This is why he _loves_  you."

Taken back by the maliciously spoken words, Sephiroth paused momentarily as other words were forced to reappear in his mind, ones that Vincent had spoken hours before when they had been 'making love' _._ Sephiroth had no doubt that Chaos had implied them. And in them, he finally found a hint of betrayal. The words certainly hadn't seemed malicious at the time, but Chaos had made them so.

He remembered Vincent saying _, 'I love your passion. Your commitment, even when you're being fucked.'_

Fucked with?  Is that what Vincent had really meant?  Now that he'd thought it, his sense of betrayal still high, he couldn't escape the notion that that was exactly what Vincent had meant.

Already high above Midgar, with no dependence on wings and using the shear will of his mind, Sephiroth caught up to and flew in front of Chaos, stopping a few feet away. The beast halted, apparently taking the confrontation to heart and liking it as it sneered at him. The expression was probably the closest it would ever get to a true smile. In turn, Sephiroth gritted his teeth, wanting to explode with everything that churned inside of him. But he couldn't without putting weaponless Genesis and Angeal in the middle of it against their wills. 

Why in god's name had Lazard sent the two men up weaponless anyway? So they would seem like less of a threat? Or so they couldn't defend themselves? Either reason did nothing to calm him.

Sephiroth glanced down slightly and could see that Genesis was still conscious, even with the beast's claws still wrapped around his neck, tilting it to the side slightly. The redhead looked like he wanted to explode himself, but also looked at him like Sephiroth was something out of hell. Nonetheless, he was being docile enough and Sephiroth had to give him credit for it because the man was not normally someone to turn the other cheek.

Lifting his gaze back to Chaos, he snarled, "We need to put them down. They're not part of this."

"Such a small, small world you live in," Chaos murmured, still looking at Sephiroth, caressing Genesis' jaw then cheek with an elongated finger. The redhead brought up his only free arm, ripping at the unwelcome touch with little result. Chaos chuckled, bringing angry color to the young man's cheeks.

A furious growl erupted from Angeal, his grips tightening on Sephiroth's arms that wrapped around his chest. Sephiroth suddenly feared he might break free and try his chances free flying. He had to tranquilize the situation and quickly. His own inner turmoil would have to wait.

"The torture you put this man though..." Chaos clicked its tongue. "And all he wanted to do was share some apples with you." 

At that, Genesis' struggles renewed, gargling something incomprehensible, and the grip at his neck tightened until his face was bright red and then, seconds later, he went limp. 

"Genesis!" burst out of Angeal. With Sephiroth distracted by his own desire to storm at Chaos, Angeal managed to break free and crossed the distance, clawing at Chaos who wasted no time in dropping his victim. The two men plummeted. 

Sephiroth wasted less than a second to glare pure death before he streaked straight down, using the momentum of gravity and his will to pull him closer. Within moments, he grabbed ahold of both men, and then continued downwards, until he knew he could let go and, even with the remaining distance, Angeal could safely land with his charge onto the home below them.

Next to Angeal's ear, he muttered, "Take care of him," and let go.

The world and its technology had become more or less silent by the time he change directions and restarted his ascent. He'd only gained a few feet when a streak of red dropped past him. He reached out, not willing to see the man die that way - If anything, the man was going to die at his hand - but he only managed to grab at traces of cloak which slipped through his fingers at the other man's weight and momentum.

Sephiroth had barely managed to stop when Vincent moved in his inhuman way, becoming a streak of red and landing without a scratch on another house roof. Vincent looked to the men some distance away, then up at him as he floated there. The coldness he saw in crimson eyes gnawed at him. Then the gunman actually had the gall to turn around and leap away to a nearby roof.

There was no way in hell this was going to end on Vincent Valentine's terms. 

Sephiroth dove at him, holding his breath, only the soft leather of his uniform making any sounds at it flapped in the wind. Seconds later, in the black of the cloudy night, some distance away from where he'd left his friends, when Vincent looked back, probably sensing him more than hearing him, he plowed into the man's side. Vincent fought with him as much as he tried to get free. Sephiroth spent every ounce of strength he had to gain the upper hand. The motions continued down the side of the roof and over a 20 foot drop to the ground. He landed hard on top of his sword, with Vincent half way on top of him. Instant dizziness tried to tell him to calm the hell down. He would have laughed at it and his body's absurd cry for help had he had the breath.

By the time Vincent had him on his back, his arms pinned to his sides, raging down at him with his heavy breathing and body as much as with his eyes, Sephiroth's braid had come half way out and was spotted grey with dirt and smog from grinding against the ground, as surely as his face and clothing were. Vincent's eyes burned as they looked down at him, darting over his face, searching, perhaps attempting to find a good place to take a bite as the man looked as much demon as Chaos did.

But just as Sephiroth could do no more at that moment, Vincent could do nothing more than that for several long, draining moments. By then Sephiroth could feel tears demanding to sprout at Vincent's betrayal and that enraged him again. 

Sephiroth kneed him hard between the legs, the only place left open for him. If Vincent had any ounce of humanity, he would have felt it. And apparently the man did as his whole body cringed. Sephiroth used that chance to shove him off, get behind him, grip his arms behind his body, and straddle him. He had to put the full force of his weight and mind to the challenge, but the man did go down into a position an outsider would have considered semi-docile. Sephiroth, however, didn't let his guard down for a moment.

"Okay, now would be a really good time to tell me what the hell you're doing here," Sephiroth said near him, but not near enough that the other man could head-butt him.

He could only see half of the man's face with white-streaked raven hair covering it. A lock of hair puffed up and down, matching Vincent's harsh breaths. The gunman's eyes were closed. The relative stillness of Vincent burned the younger man, making him feel a pang of gilt which served to anger him further. 

Nonetheless, when the other man didn't speak for what seemed like far too long, Sephiroth instead tried to piece together his broken mind.

Before he could though to any degree of satisfaction, finally, Vincent said, "I'm sorry."

"God, don't say that to me. We're not even close to that point yet. You have to do better than that."

But true to his apparent nature, Vincent didn't continue. 

Nearly a minute later, when it seemed like the all fight had left the gunman, Sephiroth loosened his hold slightly, testing, and thankfully the other man seemed to cooperate. He relaxed the grip because, after all, he had to give Vincent some benefit of the doubt. Vincent -had- come back to help him, to save Genesis, for whatever twisted reasons there could be. The ex-Turk had done it when he could have flown off into the night, mission accomplished.

"Sephiroth, I have to go. I need to finish what I started or this will have all been pointless."

That hit him hard in the chest. "So, what? You're done with me?" Sephiroth couldn't help but laugh at his own absurd words. What the hell did it matter if Vincent was done with him? It shouldn't have mattered.

"This isn't how I wanted it to be," Vincent whispered.

"What? The riding off into the sunset thing again?"

Vincent huffed. "Yes."

Sephiroth forced himself to stand upright, suddenly uneasy being so close to the man who, less than an hour before, he would have called his lover.

Vincent sat up, pushing damp hair out of his face, before he looked up at him. The man blinked at him and Sephiroth could see an idea forming. He didn't know whether or not to be scared. "You could help me." 

"You want my help now? I'm quite sure you've gotten enough of it already."

The gunman stood up with ease, adjusting his clothing and rifle, looking down briefly to do so. "You can't go back now. Even if you did, it would take considerable effort for them to trust you again, if they didn't kill you on sight."

Sephiroth shook his head. The words were probably true. Even if he hadn't been the one to do the acts of treason, not exactly, he'd been a willing participant. And on top of everything else, well... 

Not to mention, there was even the chance that Genesis and Angeal would reject him at that point. He wouldn't have blamed them.

"I need to go into the reactors and finish taking them down. With any luck, before they can get them running again, people won't want them anymore."

"I can't imagine that." And he couldn't. The reactors had been a part of their lives for far too many years, giving them cheap, easy energy, even if it brought ShinRa's control more tightly wrapped around their necks. People wouldn't give that up without a good reason. And the apparent reason Vincent had suggested, the planet dying, didn't seem even remotely good enough because who would have believed it. The planet wasn't alive.

"The telephones you heard earlier, and TVs and computers, anything hooked up and turned on, I sent everyone a bit of, ah, propaganda."

"Why? Even if they believed you and did give up mako energy, what do you expect them to do?"

"You'd be surprised what people will do when they fight for a cause. Consider Wutai and the freedom they fought for. The further you go, the less people want ShinRa in their lives. People will accept it. And they did, in the future anyway." Vincent looked to the distance. "And I've sent various schematics on clean energy production to a few people who I know will put them to good use. Let's hope they get them before their phones run out of batteries, although I do have hard copies in my hotel room."

Unbelieving, Sephiroth shook his head. "Do you really plan to take down the system all in one night?"

"Yes, at least most of it."

Unfortunately, he believed him. After a shake of his head, he muttered, "I'll help you. But do you have anything else to tell me? I swear I'll kill you the next time I find out you're hiding something from me."

Raven brows raised. And then he smirked. Finally the smirk morphed into a smile directed at him, although Sephiroth could barely see it in the darkness. "No, nothing else worth dying for."

Sephiroth couldn't help the heat that enveloped him. He was sure the words weren't completely true, but he couldn't expect the man to tell him everything he knew in a matter of minutes.

Together, in the dark of night, the two of them went from reactor to reactor. With only the two men knowing the true plan and communication across the city minimized, they squashed the minimal resistance they encountered with ease. By the end, Sephiroth had gotten used to the procedure he knew Vincent hadn't come up with on his own. Millions of ShinRa's cash, in the form of equipment, ended up at the bottom of the reactors, swallowed up by mako, by the planet.

Afterwards, a new day ahead of them, they traveled to the other reactors across the world, one by one, the act a chore by then, until they came to the Nebelheim reactor and Sephiroth saw the word 'Jenova'.


	12. Sleeping Beauty

When Sephiroth looked to Vincent, he knew the gunman had known what they'd find. The fact that the other man hadn't prepared him... He didn't know how to react. 

The ex-SOLDIER looked around the room, taking in the oddness of it. This was unlike any other reactor he'd been to. Besides the word Jenova in bold letters, there were strange pods lined up on either side of the main stairwell. He looked to Vincent again but the man offered no help and instead leaned against a wall and looked to his feet. Apparently Vincent thought this was something he was supposed to do alone.

Uncomfortable going into the situation unprepared, with a weak growl that echoed slightly, Sephiroth walked to one pod and looked inside the small window that was clearly meant for observing. The creature contained within was a nightmare, but even more frightening was the fact that it breathed, was clearly alive and trapped inside a space it could barely turn around in. 

He looked inside another one and there was another creature. He realized every pod was probably full with one.

His eyes flashed to Vincent. "Did Hojo do this? Who are they? Is this... how I was made?"

Vincent looked past him, to the pods. "I don't know who they are. But yes, this was Hojo's playground. However, this isn't how you were born. Your mother carried you until your birth. Most of what was done to you happened inside her womb, as you formed. These creatures..." He shook his head, looking to Sephiroth. "I'm sure they were once men, but they no longer are. I doubt they can even think anymore."

"But you don't know for sure?"

"No..."

Sephiroth backed away, not sure how to handle his discovery. Then he looked back up at the single word printed on the wall at the top of the stairs. "Is she here?"

"Yes."

Aquamarine eyes watched Vincent for a moment. The other man was clearly uncomfortable, his brow furrowed, shifting slightly in his stance against the wall. From the little Sephiroth knew and understood, he could see why Vincent would be uncomfortable with Sephiroth having any interest in Jenova. 

Trying to calm Vincent's unease, he muttered, "She may be inside of me, but she doesn't control me any more than she does you." Vincent frowned at him, so he added, "Are you sure she controlled me or did it merely seem so?"

Vincent shifted off the wall and moved to be closer to him, but still some distance away. "No one really knew what was going on inside of your head. But, considering everything... Well, people with her cells inside aren't known to be the sanest."

The silver-haired man huffed at the words. "I'm sure." 

He walked further up the stairs and to the door at the top. He pressed his hands, then his ear against it. Inside, he could hear a soft hum, but that could have well been the whole reactor vibrating. A moment later, the door slid open automatically, making him jump back slightly, his long braid flopping against his backside. 

Sephiroth stepped forward. The air inside was musty, damp, much more so than in the outer room. Then he walked inside and his eyes were immediately drawn upwards.

The statue on the pedestal some distance beyond him was clearly made of metal and that deflated some of the fear clenching his body. Then he noticed that the tube leading up to it came out of its belly, as if the factory was its mother, its life. Or perhaps the tube drew something out of the statue. He walked up, then noticing the smaller tubes, hearing the mechanics. Whatever it was, it was far more than merely a statue. Frowning, he realized he could see something beyond it. 

Strong hands gripped at it and then forcefully tugged. It gave way slightly. He yanked and the whole top of the form came off, spitting out fluid. He tossed the contraption unceremoniously to the side, hearing it slide off of the ball below and then slam multiple times as it made its decent into the unknown. But in face of what he saw, he easily ignored those sounds. 

Vincent had told him this wasn't his mother. Yet how could he deny that she was? Although he couldn't see her eyes, hiding any sign they might be cat-like like his own, her face resembled his own, beautiful where Hojo's had been ill-fitted. Her hair streamed down, silver-white, just like his own. Had he been a woman, he was sure he would have looked like her.

Had Vincent and Hojo been lying about his true origins? Perhaps not. Perhaps there was simply so much of Jenova in every cell of his body that he'd taken on much of her form. But of course, if true, Jenova was as much a part of him as his real mother, Lucrecia. 

And neither woman had taken a moment to parent him.

Scowling at her, her inhumanness became more apparent, the coral like wings that came out from behind her, the discoloration and anomalies of her skin, the appendage she stood on top of that resembled a heart, a feat of anatomy that made no sense. She was as beautiful as she was a monster. And she was the monster he'd been created from.

He heard the click of metal behind him and turned to look at Vincent. "What did Hojo do to her?"

"I don't know. But it's my hope she's as unaware of her state as the people in the chambers." Vincent crossed his arms over his chest, looking up at her. "You asked me before about her controlling you, well, truthfully, there's the extremely good chance that you controlled her rather than she controlled you. But most people didn't want to think that. The whole affair was difficult enough to accept as it was. People preferred her to be the monster."

Sephiroth gritted his teeth, trying to accept what Vincent was telling him. It was difficult to because he didn't want to. Either way, if he was the monster or she was, it was still all utterly fucked up. 

He looked back to the being. She was quiet, unmoving, without a voice. "I-I'm sure it was me." He shook his head slightly. "I feel nothing when I look at her. There's nothing there."

"Even if it was only you, well, you thought you were right in what you did."

Sephiroth smirked at Vincent's attempt to soothe him, the crazy person. A hand on the glass, he leaned forward, trying to find some sign of awareness, some way to prove that whatever past Vincent had known couldn't have been true. There was no truth to be found. "Even psychotic people think they're right, I suppose."

"General consensus doesn't necessarily make something right either."

Sephiroth huffed, turning around. "This discussion is becoming rather philosophical, don't you think?"

Vincent shrugged, "Like I said, I'm the last person who should judge anyone."

The ex-SOLDIER started shaking his head and then found he couldn't stop the motion until he looked away. "I'm still surprised you didn't come back and just shoot me dead."

"That was never the plan. At least, unless I couldn't bring you to the light."

Sephiroth snorted, even though it was probably the truth, and touched the glass again, looking at half of his mother. "What would happen if we freed her?"

"If she regained consciousness, well, she was called the calamity from the sky. If she was anything like the stories tell us, then she would destroy us the second she got the chance. But I don't know. We don't really know what happened back then. It was over two thousand years ago, after all. And besides, people can be made to believe almost anything, whether true or not. We only really know what's in our face and even that knowledge is questionable."

He couldn't deny that. But at the same time, that view was such a draining way to look at the world. How Vincent could go around day after day believing how he did? The younger man knew he himself sometimes looked at the world that way but it always left him miserable. Perhaps it depressed the gunman as well.

In the end though, with everything he'd been through in the past week, he didn't want to see the world that way at that moment. He wanted to believe someone, to believe in them. He turned to look at the ex-Turk, and acknowledged that he had the hope Vincent would be that someone as well as understand that fact. Most importantly, Sephiroth also had the cautious faith that Vincent might fulfill his hope.

Sephiroth murmured with a small smile, "I don't think there is another person alive who would have stood by me through everything I've done, especially while knowing what I could do."

Vincent frowned at him, probably not sure where the words had come from. But after a moment, he murmured, "We're all capable of such things. You just happen to have a bit more force behind your words."

"Maybe." Turning back to the creature he'd once called his mother, he said quietly, but loud enough for Vincent to hear. "I can't leave her here for others to find."

When Vincent said nothing in protest, he drew his sword and slash in an arc at the side of the container. Sickly sweet smelling fluids gushed out of the gaping hole and over the ledge. When it had drained almost completely, he swiped again in front of himself, giving himself an entry way to step inside. 

Her naked body was hunched over, as if she was dead. He touched her stomach, the place where the tube entered her. He tugged at it. A grotesque gooey sound almost made him stop the effort. When he pulled harder, the thing declamped from her torso, and he realized a tube remained inside of her. He pulled it out, slowly, waiting for her to scream. The only thing that moved her was Sephiroth himself. He pressed the helmet off, lifted her down, and realized her arms were bound behind her. He kneeled and placed her over his leg so that he could free her from the bindings with the edge of his sword. When freed, she slumped completely over his offered leg with absolutely no resistance. He didn't know whether to be grateful or disturbed out of his mind.

After reattaching his sword to his belt and tucking his hair back inside, and while standing up, he encouraged her body to fall back on his arm, avoiding the appendages that looked similar to the ones on the monsters in the pods. Then he used his other arm to lift her legs. Carefully, he walked down, then looked further down, to the chamber below. He took a second to glance at Vincent and then jumped off of the side of the ball. 

He drifted down until he reached a platform and looked to the mako even further down. Long legs walked to the side and once again jumped. When he was next to the pool, he hovered both of them above the mako. The first things to touch were her hands and feet that dangled. At the touch, he heard a fizzle. He jerked her back up, but she neither awoke and her body seemed fine, as fine at it had been anyway. 

Again, he tentatively lowered her. The fizzle sound began but he ignored it and lowered her further until her arms and buttocks and calves were immersed. He let go of her legs and lowered her further.

Without warning, tendrils of mako lazily swirled up around her chest, neck, face, and then threatened to cover him as well. The mako was acting quite alive, feeling, drifting, making circles, around his arms and chest, and then the rest of him. Lost in wonder, he watched it for a few moments, but then shaken by the mako caressing his cheek, he almost dropped her and retreated to a safer distance.

Then, he did drop her unintentionally when her body suddenly lurched out of his hands in a great spasm. Submerged to her shoulders, her head jerked this way and that, her arms wild, the alien seeming to realize her predicament. 

Almost as amazing as her sudden animation, was the fact that the discoloration vanished from her skin, leaving a pale color in its wake. The appendages melted away as well. When their eyes met for the first time, he could see the slits constricting to focus on him. And then she cried out in a language he'd never heard before. However, the terror in her eyes told him that her words must have been a plea for help.

At the look, he grabbed back onto her, pulling her out of the goo as it clung to her frail body. She clung to his neck, speaking gibberish, then went quiet when she was completely freed, looking down at it. 

Against his better judgment, despite the tales he'd been told about her, he flew up once again and landed on the platform, but was forced to keep his hold on her since she wouldn't let him go even when he tried to pull away. He realized her legs wobbled uncontrollably. Unsure of whether or not he was supposed to be having mercy on her, he nonetheless held her.

Footsteps landed behind him. Sephiroth turned his head and saw Vincent regarding them both with a considerable degree of shock on his face.

Sputtering, Sephiroth mumbled, "I don't know what happened. She... She just..."

"The planet has been known to show mercy, to cure the sick, to bring back loved ones. It wouldn't do this without a reason."

"What reason could the planet possibly have?!"

"I-I don't know."


	13. The Long Walk Home

Vincent stalked over to them, taking his cape off as he moved, and wrapped it around Jenova's shoulders. To aid in the effort, Sephiroth forced her grips off of him, an easy effort considering how weak she was, and held her up by her upper arms. Covered, he then tried to pick her back up but she bucked, yelling things incomprehensible. 

Seeing it as a lost cause, instead, he aided her downwards as her legs crumbled beneath her weight, her twisted face and voice accusing him or belittling him or trying to tell him what to do or what had happened. He had absolutely no clue.

When he let go, her body slumped over but she managed to stay upright with the support of her hands. Sephiroth straightened and stared down at her for a moment. Then he glanced up at Vincent. The other man was watching the enraged, mumbling alien who was probably trying to come to grips with her lack of strength and her new place in the world.

Finally, Vincent muttered over her quietening voice, "This wasn't part of the plan."

Sephiroth dropped his gaze back to the woman. If the stories were in any way true, he'd just brought about their doom. "I'm sorry. I didn't know this was going to happen. I can still..." He broke off but then realized she probably wouldn't understand him anyway.

The alien's breathing had gone shallow by the time Vincent said, "We can wait. In all honesty, how do we even know she's the Jenova the stories tell us about? They could have made a mistake identifying her when they found her."

"I doubt a human could stay alive for so long."

"Probably." The raven-haired man shrugged slightly, finally looking at the younger man. "Perhaps what kept her alive was the illness the Lifesteam cured her of..." He frowned, his mind clearly working. "If she was cured of anything... In the stories, she's said to be able to morph into those she comes in contact with." His lips pursed. "We could take her to..." Then he shook his head. "Never mind. I don't want to involve her in this. At least not yet."

"Who?"

"Aeris."

"The girl? But what would she know?"

"She's part Cetra."

The notion shocked him but he said no more about it since Vincent obviously had decided against that path. Besides, what could the girl possibly do to help, whatever her heritage?

The room quieted, except for their breaths and the hum of machinery as they watched her.

Despite their concerns, Vincent made no move against her. Sephiroth didn't know if that was the best decision, but he followed Vincent's lead since the gunman had more knowledge over such matters. Well, then again, in matters specifically related to Jenova, he probably knew as little as Sephiroth did.

Nonetheless, he still couldn't find it within himself to strike her down. Days or weeks earlier, if Vincent had looked at him and had only seen a monster, he would have already been dead. He had to give her a chance, the same one Vincent had given him.

And besides, how could he kill his own mother, well, half-mother, even if she'd never truly been a mother to him?

Sephiroth shook his head as the quickly formed attachment rubbed him and made him grit his teeth and clench his fists. He could never look at this woman as his mother. She was nothing more than an involuntary donor of cells who very well had a good chance of being a monster.

Jenova, or whoever she was, looked up at him with confused, but angry darting eyes, her breaths growing haywire again. He realized she probably saw him as one of her own. That chilled him. Then he also realized that her eyes had become normal, well, normal for the rest of the population. 

Nearly trembling in his confusion, he tried to regain some control over the situation as he said, "Let's finish what we started and take this reactor down. It's the last one, right?"

"Yes... But we'll take her with us."

In agreement, Sephiroth knelt down and cautiously reached out. The woman eyed him, his hands, and the glowered at him. Quietly, he muttered, knowing she most likely didn't understand him, "Let me help you." He'd tried to be soothing with his voice, but he was sure it hadn't worked when she hunched further into the cloak and bared her teeth with a growl. If she was human or Cetra, she must have been raised by animals. Animals who could speak some kind of language, he reminded himself.

Shooting a gaze up to Vincent helped nothing. The man merely watched them, apparently leaving the problem up to him to solve. It was a problem he'd created, after all, but it could have been everyone's problem if he couldn't get some control over her. At least, so far, she'd been more or less docile and not the destroyer of a planet.

The hand he had outstretched touched her. She jerked back as if she'd been burned. Sephiroth shook his head slightly with a growl of his own. Putting himself in her shoes, he wouldn't have wanted him touching her either.

"She's not going to come willingly."

"Just pick her up then. Wrap her, if you have to. Once we're finished, we can deal with her in a more... caring manner." This was not the same person who'd talked sweetly to Aeris, but that was probably because he'd known the girl in another life. 

Sephiroth half-laughed at the idea of grabbing at her, not quite ready to lose an eye or chunks of skin. The baring of teeth increased.

"Forget it. Just stay here with her. I'll take care of it." Vincent turned and stalked to the control room in the distance.

The anger apparent in the other man's voice, Sephiroth stood and turned his head to watch him go, his heart thumping. He'd made a mistake. He should have just left her in the tube to rot. What had he been thinking? What good could come of protecting her from prying eyes and groping hands? She'd been comatose. She wouldn't have cared.

Then again, she could have been aware. And what could have come of it? What other monsters could be created from her?

He didn't know what could have been done with her body. Worse, he didn't know what was going on in her head. And he probably never would if they couldn't find a way to communicate.

The reactor suddenly went dim, the only light coming from the mako below them. The room went quiet. Jenova perked up and looked around. The clanking of metal echoed loudly. Each one made the woman's body jerk. He didn't fare much better. 

After a minute of jolting noise, Jenova suddenly tried to stand. Without thinking, he reached down to help her but she said something enflamed in hate to him, so he straightened and watched her struggle. After nearly a minute, she'd managed to get on her feet and balance. He let go of a breath he'd been holding. However she'd stayed alive for so long, it'd apparently allowed her to keep her muscle tone, but her brain apparently needed some relearning. 

The alien looked around, pulling the cloak tighter around her slim body, probably trying to find the best exit. He watched her, waiting to see what she would do, wondering why she didn't merely fly away like he could. Maybe she couldn't. Maybe she'd forgotten how to or that she could. 

"Jenova?" 

Her head turned at the name, but he couldn't tell if that was because it was her name or because he'd merely said something. She frowned, looked back around, and finally began hobbling away. He looked to where she was looking and noticed the metal stairwell twining upwards. Her progress was slow, so he merely followed, knowing Vincent would be done soon enough.

When she apparently realized she was being followed, she jerked her head and growled a few choice words at him, but he didn't stop. She gritted her teeth behind a sneer and tried to move faster. If the whole situation hadn't been so absurd, borderlining on insane, he would have laughed at the reaction. Besides, he didn't want to piss her off any more than he already was. They still didn't know what she was capable of, after all, or even who or what she truly was.

The stairs reached, she gripped the railing as her other hand clamped on the cloak and started up. If her progress on solid ground had been slow, this was a crawl. Sephiroth looked up, grimacing at the height of the staircase. It would take them an hour, if not more, at this rate. 

Minutes later, when they reached the first landing, he sat down on it and watched her, wondering when she was going to give up or fall over trying. He rested his head back, closing his eyes briefly. Her clumpy footsteps became almost sedative. His head nodded, jerking him, and his eyes flung back open. He blinked repeatedly, and the found she'd made it a few more steps since he'd closed his eyes. His head swam as it tried to come back awake. God, he was tired. He should have slept earlier when he'd had the chance.

Sephiroth looked up again, eyeing her. She moved slowly and she seemed innocent enough... Against his better judgement, he let his eyes close again. Just for a moment, it seemed like. 

Something shoved him hard on the shoulder, and he bolted awake, colliding heads with his perceived attacker.

Vincent staggered backwards, glaring at him as the swordsman tried to regain his boundaries while rubbing at his forehead. Remembering himself, he jerked his head upwards, trying to find any trace of Jenova. He relaxed slightly when he realized she'd only made it past a couple more landings.

When his gaze had locked back onto crimson eyes, those eyes held considerably more sympathy than before. This was the first time he could remember ever falling asleep on the job. 

"Come on," Vincent murmured.

Sephiroth nodded, forcing himself to stand up and follow after the ex-Turk.

Nearly an hour later, still several landings from the top, Jenova finally stumbled, her supporting arm twirling her, and her backside collided with the stairs. Resigning to her seat, her forehead rested against a railing as she huffed ragged breaths. Sephiroth knew she probably felt as shitty as he did, if not considerably worse.

The younger man saw Vincent shake his head and stalk up the remaining distance to her side. Then he lifted her suddenly struggling body. She screamed and fought with everything she had left in her. When he changed into Chaos, she really did scream pure terror. The noise jolted Sephiroth, but he could do nothing about it when the beast's great wings flapped and left him behind. Taking the hint, he took off in flight after them.

When they landed outside a mansion, her screaming had already ceased. When he caught sight of her, he realized she'd passed out. Vincent morphed back into his own body as they walked inside the dark house. Only the light outside let them gauge when to avoid something. Vincent walked with a clear destination in mind and Sephiroth realized he'd been in the mansion before. He looked around and realized he knew this place as well. He stopped dead in his tracks as he watched the gunman continue on and up the stairs.

In the basement of a mansion, Vincent slept to atone, a prisoner of Hojo and Lucrecia, as much as of the gunman himself... 


	14. Understanding

Sephiroth climbed a couple of stairs, his steps leaden, but then couldn't move anymore. He didn't know if it was his tiredness, the overwhelming commotion in his head that barely made sense anymore, or the fear of being around the two people upstairs and the one downstairs. Any part could have stopped him, so it was probably a good mixture of all three.

He wanted to turn back around, walk out the door, and just run away with no destination in mind. He wanted just a little bit of peace after so many days, years of torment. He wanted some normality to his fucked up life. Was that too much to ask for?

Instead of running away, something he wouldn't do however miserable he got, he slumped down on the step, closed his eyes, rested the side of his head against the railing, and listened to the creaking footsteps on the floor above. Soon they grew quiet. Then they came back towards him and made him hold his breath.

The gunman stalled at the top of the stairs, but then made his way down the staircase until he stood next to the younger man. His eyes still closed, Sephiroth slowly released the breath he'd been holding through slightly parted lips. Neither man spoke for nearly a minute, Vincent's presence overwhelming, overbearing. Finally Vincent sat down next to him, put an arm around his shoulders, and encouraged him to lean in. Sephiroth resisted slightly, but not enough to detour the gunman, and then, relenting, he fed off of Vincent's warmth, something he couldn't find in his own body

Soft lips touched his forehead in a softer kiss. The simple gesture broke him and he couldn't stop the tears dripping from his eyes as he burrowed his head against Vincent's neck. Vincent caressed his cheek, hushing him. The affection bordered on humiliating, but considering the way Vincent had reacted to and treated Jenova, he supposed he should have been glad he wasn't on the ex-Turk's shit list.

Eventually, too soon, Vincent stood up and encouraged him to do the same by gripping his hand and pulling. "Come on."

Overly tired, dizzy, Sephiroth stood and resorted to holding the railing to keep himself steady as the gunman lead him upstairs and to the left. Vincent opened a door and tried to usher him inside the room with two empty beds, saying, "Sleep here. I'll watch her."

Instantly, when he realized the other man was going to leave him alone, he shook his head and jerked back a step. "No, I want to stay with you."

Even as he'd said it, his mind revolted at the idea. This wasn't how he was supposed to act. He wasn't supposed to be this clingy. Not even towards Cloud had he been so needy.

He was tried. That was why he was acting this way. That was all it was. He just couldn't be expected to be rational at that point. But then why was he so unbearably blissful when Vincent said a simple, "Okay," and led him back down the hallway the way they'd come and to the master bedroom. 

After putting down their weapons, they sat together on the floor against a bare wall. The late morning sun warmed the room, in turn warming them from the chill outside. This time Sephiroth needed no encouragement to lean into Vincent's embrace. 

The other man pressed his lips to the top of his head and murmured there, "Sleep, if you can."

Sephiroth looked to Jenova on a large bed that dwarfed her small body and watched her quiet breaths that barely moved her chest and the cape and blanket over her. "When she wakes up, she's going to run, if she can."

"I know."

Sephiroth closed his eyes and huffed before he muttered, "We should tie her up or something."

"Probably." 

Despite the agreement and an assured reality when she awoke, neither man made any attempt to do so. Perhaps they were both just too tired to bother at that moment. Perhaps, with both men knowing what it was like to be a prisoner, nether wanted to condemn her to the same fate, one she'd already suffered for supposedly 2,000 years. Whatever the reasons, roping the woman down could in no way compare to feeling Vincent against his body. As such, he much preferred the latter and intended to keep it that way.

Sephiroth then shifted his gaze around the room and to the curved stone wall in the corner and frowned at it, seeing the outline of a door, a door he remembered. He swallowed and closed his eyes. His mind pictured the swirling staircase, the long hallway, the lab, and another door to a room he was never allowed inside.

"We lived here while you were... in that room, didn't we, when I was a child? You were so close to me but I never knew you were there."

Vincent hushed him again, making him frown.

"Don't you want to... We can free you. You don't have to stay in there."

The gunman shook his head with a huff. "It's better that I do."

"Why?"

"Would you want to see your past self?"

Sephiroth frowned at the idea. "I don't know."

"Well, I don't. It's enough to deal with myself, let alone two of me."

The swordsman snorted, lifting his head slightly to look at the other man. "I suppose."

"You didn't have to agree to that," Vincent chuckled, resting his hand against Sephiroth's head, encouraging him to rest his head again. "Besides, I don't know what would happen if we came in contact with one another. For all we know, the world could blow up or something."

Shaking his head against the shoulder, the younger man mumbled, "That sounds like an excuse."

Sephiroth could hear the small smile when Vincent said, "Yeah."

The words drifted around the younger man's mind, along with imaginings of what the Vincent downstairs was like, what he looked like and even smelled like. Soon enough, their soft breaths lulled him and sleep overtook him.

When he awoke, he shifted slightly and realized his head was resting on Vincent's lap. He couldn't remember shifting his position, but when Vincent took to running his fingers through his windblown hair, he no longer cared how he'd gotten there. 

The sun's rays had left the room and he knew it was coming again to evening.

Vincent murmured, "You should sleep more."

Aquamarine eyes closed again, wanting to lose himself in the moment. Who knew the world could be so quiet, so peaceful? Take away the woman on the bed and the hordes of SOLIDERs probably on their way to destroy him and it would have been a pretty good day. 

Instead, he lost himself in dreams.

Sephiroth awoke to darkness. He immediately notice that his head rested on an article of bundled up clothing, rather than Vincent's lap. He pushed himself up unsteadily, still feeling not much better than before. With the dryness of his mouth and overall aching, he gathered he was probably quite dehydrated. He looked to the bed and instantly bolted upright when he realized no one was in it. The motion brought a rough queasiness over him and he almost threw up whatever might have been in his stomach.

Head pounding, he forced his weak body upright and made his way clumsily to the downstairs and to the part of the mansion where he heard noises, only to be taken aback when he could make sense of what he was seeing in a kitchen lit by candlelight.

Huddled in a chair sat Jenova. She wore woman's clothing, a button down shirt and a pair of slacks that were a touch too large for her, and Sephiroth could only think they'd once belonged to Lucrecia. She eyed him with clear suspicion while she clutched a fork in her fingers, but other than that, her appearance was disturbingly normal.

On the other end of normal was Vincent who stood at the gas stove, wearing a collared shirt over his normal pants, cooking something that smelled delicious. He must have gone shopping in town, Sephiroth realized. Had he left Jenova? Taken her with him? And how in the world had he managed to get her dressed, let alone keeping her in the mansion, all without a noise that could have woke him?

Sephiroth felt his mouth hanging open so he closed it. He had to have been still dreaming, having a nightmare. He couldn't even begin to explain to himself why the scene disturbed him so much. Gripping at the door frame, he shook his head, eyes closed, trying to straighten out his mind.

Then footsteps came towards him and Vincent touched his arm. "Sit down."

He swatted the offending appendage away with a glare that didn't help his headache. A chair squealed as Vincent dragged it over to him. 

With more force, he ordered, "Sit down."

"Fuck you." And so began the butting of heads.

Vincent gritted his teeth, grabbed his arm, and jerked him into the seat. The only reason Sephiroth didn't fight it was because the motion was excruciatingly jarring and he didn't want to add to it. When he didn't move, Vincent stalked off, got some water out of the faucet that apparently worked, and gave the cup to him.

The swordsman sipped the lukewarm water tentatively and then burst out coughing as it seemed to go in all of the wrong places. No one made any move to help him. What could they have done, after all? But they both watched him in his fit, enraging him all the more. But instead of lashing out, he took another sip and then another because he could tell his body wanted the water badly, even if it'd partially forgotten how to deal with it. He let his head roll back and hit the door frame, eyes closed, and heard Vincent walk back to whatever he was cooking.

Aquamarine eyes cracked back open, taking in the scene, and he realized what disturbed him so much. Despite its oddities, it did seem normal. He couldn't think of a single time he'd actually sat at a table and had dinner, or lunch, or breakfast, or whatever with, well, people that could have been considered, in some disturbing way, kind of like a family.

A laugh burst out of him, bringing two sets of eyes back on him. At the looks, he mumbled, "Am I the only one seeing this?"

Jenova had no apparent comprehension of the words, but Vincent frowned at him and made him feel a bit of guilt for his outburst. Apparently this was normal. Another half-laugh burst out of him and he reclosed his eyes.

If this was what life was going to throw at him now, he could deal with it. If he could deal with everything else, he could deal with this. 

After he'd eaten some eggs and toast, he began to feel a bit better and stopped glaring at everyone and everything.

"Remind me to keep you fed," Vincent mumbled, which earned a new glare from the swordsman, but he couldn't hold onto the expression.

Vincent was right. He hadn't been taking care of himself, had let himself get to a point that his body had reached a serious condition. But at least it'd been one he could work himself back out of with some attention.

Sephiroth glanced to Jenova, catching her gaze as she nibbled on toast, seeming to enjoy the feel of it against her mouth more than she wanted to eat it. She frowned and looked to her plate. Now he had two people with which he had to wonder what was going through their heads. 

Was she bidding her time for the strike? Or merely as innocent as she seemed, despite her animalistic tendencies? He didn't have a clue.

"So how did you manage to tame her?"

Vincent huffed, looking at her, while she eyed them both. "She woke up in a considerably better mood. I didn't do anything." Then he looked to her plate. "She's not eating though."

One point for the alien theory. Or maybe she just wasn't hungry.

"If she is Jenova and she can absorb memories and such..." Sephiroth offered, sitting back in his chair, "We both touched her. Do you think she can understand us?"

"Maybe." Bandanna-less, Vincent brushed silver stained raven locks away from his eyes and behind his ear. "I'm not a scientist though. Either way, I'd only be guessing."

Sephiroth put down his silverware and crossed his arms over his chest, watching the woman with an interest that seemed to bother her as she tried to look anywhere but at him. "Well, as I'm sure you know from being a Turk, there are ways to force answers out of people. Pain is a fantastic motivator."

When her eyes suddenly widened slightly and flickered to him, the woman probably well aware of what they were capable of, he had his answer.


	15. Whispers in the Mind

The woman looked to her plate, giving Sephiroth a moment to flash a glance to Vincent who was scrutinizing Jenova, crimson eyes narrowed. Then the swordsman watched the veiled panic drain from her face, leaving him wondering if she was calling his bluff. No, he'd had no intention of laying a hand on her. Not unless he had to. 

When her gaze came back up to Sephiroth's face, a smile barely touched her lips. Then, making his pulse race, bringing him to gasp, her lips never moving, he heard a voice in his head that said:

//I'm not the one who you should be afraid of.//

Then her eyes shifted to Vincent and her smile was lost. He followed her gaze and saw the gunman had taken to glowering at her.

//Death is coming for him. On the day it finds him, the world will be ripped apart, and every creature on this planet will die.//

"What are you talking-" By the end of the words, Vincent's full attention had turned on him, his face cold, and swordsman balked. Then the older man glowered at him instead of Jenova. Trying to explain himself, Sephiroth muttered, "She said... Can you hear her?"

The ex-Turk shook his head slightly, the harshness never leaving his face. "What did she say?"

"I..." Sephiroth's voice faltered.

Jenova had clearly meant the words for his ears only, and because of what they implied, he suddenly wished he'd kept his mouth shut until he could figure out the truthfulness of her words. Sephiroth started shaking his head, but then looked away, despite the fact that he knew it was an issue that couldn't be avoided any longer. And that was his own fault. 

No, now that he'd said something, he knew there was no way in hell Vincent would simply let it drop. Especially when it was a secret between Jenova and her 'son'.

Of course, if she'd instead said similar words to Vincent, instead of him, wouldn't he have appreciated the truth? And considering he'd threatened death to the gunman if Vincent held anything more back, any attempt to conceal what Jenova had said made him a rather enormous hypocrite.

"Sephiroth..."

The younger man opened his mouth again but couldn't manage the words.

"Sephiroth, whatever she said, remember that you have no reason to trust her."

"I know." He did know that. But if she just hadn't said something that made every part of him ache with horror... 

What if she was right? After all, she was right about Vincent's body dying before their eyes. But why in the world would Vincent's death kill everything on the planet? He could only think of one reason.

In his mind, he asked, not sure if she was listening, //You're talking about Chaos, aren't you?//

//Yes.//

At the word, a different kind of fear clenched him. That she could be in his head at any time... Yes, he'd wanted an answer to his question, but the idea of her wandering in his mind, picking up any and all stray thoughts, it was a bit too much. He leaned forward, his whole body tensing, his arms underneath the table on his knees, and stared at her dead-on, snarling, "Stay out of my head."

She flickered a gaze between the two men again and then slumped back into her seat, looking innocent, yet defeated.

"Sephiroth," Vincent growled again, the warning clear in his voice.

"No... No. Just..."

That was more than enough 'family' time. The swordsman shoved the chair back, the grinding sound echoing in the kitchen, and stalked away into the hallway, to the room ahead of him.

Once in the room, he stopped and stared at the piano, remembering it, and then sat down at it and played a few keys. It was a welcome distraction for the quiet sounds coming from the kitchen and the raging storm in his mind.

He wanted to drown himself in the noise, drown himself in anything. Just... Couldn't he have just one day in his life where the world didn't threaten to fall apart on him, because of him? Suddenly taking up the occupation of a beggar or farmer sounded just that much more appealing. Surely he could change his appearance enough to make himself unrecognizable and he could just live.

A slow chuckle flowed out of him that shook his shoulders. When was he ever going to give up on the idea that his life could be normal? 

Slowly, his fingers found keys that played a song he remembered from his youth, his fingers picking up dots and smears of grey dust from each key he touched. Had one of Hojo's assistants taught the song to him? Someone else? He couldn't remember. Nonetheless, the song flowed out of him, until he was nothing but the song. It rose and fell like the waves of a battle, far too intricate for someone the child he'd been should have been able to learn.

When he reached the end, the last notes carried and he stared at his stilling fingers, knowing that the release had changed nothing. But at least it was a release of some of the tension that threatened to make him go mad.

Blowing air through his teeth, he looked out the window to the dark night and wondered why fate had to be such an asshole.

Then while searching the darkness for light, a question occurred to him: 

How did Jenova know anything about Chaos? She hadn't talked to Vincent, unless the other man was once again lying to him. 

Well, then again, as the evidence pointed to it, there was the good chance that she'd absorbed Vincent's memories. He frowned as he remembered her howl of terror when Chaos had picked her up. Surely she'd seen enough death and destruction that Chaos couldn't have affected her quite that much. After all, Vincent lived with Chaos day after day and he seemed, well, sane enough.

Finally, Sephiroth closed his eyes with a sigh through tight lips and resigned to the fact that he wasn't going to be able to figure this out on his own. He just didn't know enough facts.

He stood up and walked back to the kitchen. Vincent looked up at him when he entered. The man looked pale, drained and he wondered if Jenova had finally spoken.

"Did she say something?"

"No."

Then he wondered if Vincent's condition was more because of him. He opened his mouth, closed it, still too overwhelmed to attempt to pacify either Vincent or himself, then sat back down on his chair, although he didn't bother pulling it back towards the table.

"You play beautifully," Jenova murmured, her voice soft and holding a curious accent, bringing both men to stare at her. At the attention, she dropped her gaze back down to her plate.

Sephiroth huffed a flabbergasted laugh and clawed a hand through his tangled mess of hair. He wanted to tell Vincent everything that he knew and thought, but something held him back.

He knew Jenova's presence had little to do with his inability to talk. After all, he doubted much was a secret from her.

Rather, the mere idea of saying the words out loud with Vincent so close... It was difficult enough to know Vincent was going to die and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Now, if Jenova was correct, Vincent's death would bring everyone's death, the very thing the gunman'd come back to prevent, although the death had previously been on a smaller scale.

Vincent had only made things so much worse, apparently.

With another small dismissing shake of his head, hoping to sidestep the issue, but let Vincent in on some of it at least, he asked, "How do you know about Chaos?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does matter."

"With what I could tell you, it truly doesn't. There's nothing you can do."

"There's always something."

Jenova smiled at the words. It warmed her face. "You believe that?"

Sephiroth immediately said, "Yes," even though his mind revolted.

"If not today, then tomorrow. No matter his strength, no man can live forever."

Vincent had apparently had enough of being in the background, when he blurted out, "What are you both talking about?"

Both of them stopped talking and stared at one another. Jenova apparently wanted to let Vincent in on it as little as he did, and he had to wonder why.

Was there any way to discreetly excuse themselves so that they could continue the conversation in private? Then again, wasn't he supposed to be letting Vincent in on it? How to tell someone they were going to inevitably be a destructor of a planet...

The irony of the whole situation hit Sephiroth yet again. Really, wouldn't it have just been better if Vincent hadn't come back, had left fate alone? At least, in the future, Sephiroth hadn't destroyed everything.

Could fate and irony possibly be laughing any harder?

With a small shake of his head, he slumped further into the hard chair and took to watching Vincent who stared back. Vincent's face hardened into stone, so taunt that the younger man feared his face would crack.

 'Yeah, how does it feel,' he wanted to say for a defunct moment, but didn't bother since it was pointless and plain childish.

But why was it so difficult to tell Vincent what she'd said? Vincent was a grown man, after all, and had surely suffered far more than Sephiroth realized. Surely he could handle it and perhaps help the situation.

Then Sephiroth reminded himself that all of his internal drama was riding on the idea that Jenova was telling the truth, knew what she was talking about in the first place.

Finally, when Vincent's breath barely widened his chest, his whole body tense, and Sephiroth was certain Vincent was going to take him down to the floor in a chokehold and demand answers out of him, the swordsman said to Vincent, "She said you're going to destroy the planet."

Raven brows furrowed before he jerked a dark glare at Jenova.

"Well, not you exactly. Chaos... When you die."

Sephiroth could almost see the thought process going through the ex-Turk's mind and that scared him because it meant that there could have been some truth to it.

Finally, Vincent said quietly, "He's been so quiet since she awoke, but..."

When the moment lengthened, Sephiroth blurted out, "But what?" In his own voice, he could hear the, 'Please tell me none of this is true.'

"He knows her, I'm sure of it. Which I suppose makes sense considering there is writing of both Jenova and Chaos by the Cetra. But... I think there's more to it."

Both men looked to Jenova who finally stood, took careful steps around the table, and tried to leave the room before Sephiroth grabbed her by the upper arm.

"Please, let me go." Tears ran from her eyes as she yanked at the grip with the whole of her body, and he almost released her just to be merciful.

"I can't."

Her lips peeled off of her teeth and she growled her agony, her actions becoming almost violent as she tore at his hand with her slim one. When she couldn't get free, she came at him, clawing at his arm and chest. He grabbed her other arm, and pulled her into his lap, trying to still her without resorting to full-out restraint, and found himself disturbed at how easily she could be subdued. Granted, she still fought like a beast, but a weak one compared to his science-enhanced strength. How could she have ever put so much fear into whole race of people and nearly destroyed them all in the process?

His chin lifted so she couldn't headbutt him, he snarled, "Calm down, or this is going to get considerably worse."

//Please, let me go. Please, please...// She pleaded over and over again in his mind, driving him crazy, making him want to twist her neck and be done with it.

From the moment she'd taken her hand to Sephiroth, Vincent had sped from the room and then came back with his bag. He pulled out something that looked like a dart, took off a cap, and jammed the revealed needle into her arm. She screamed. Seconds later, she slumped, and then laid limply in his arms.

"She should be out for a couple of hours. I think it's a good time to tie her up."

"Yeah," Sephiroth mumbled, blood dripping from his chest and arm raw and bruised. Ignoring it, he picked her up, took her upstairs, and then laid her on the bed. He stepped back and watched Vincent tie her up with disturbing efficiency with a rope he'd also taken out of his bag.

The chore done, Vincent stood next to him and looked down at the unconscious woman with him. "Whatever she knows, Chaos wants me to know it as little as she does. He hasn't spoken a word for hours. I didn't think much of it before, but now..."

"Just tell me what she said isn't possible."

When Vincent said nothing, it took everything in Sephiroth to keep the raging black fire hostage within him.


	16. Making Love

Sephiroth felt a touch on his chest and he looked down as Vincent's fingers glided over him with a softness he'd hardly ever experienced in his life. As good as it felt, no matter the sting of torn flesh, as much as he wanted the comfort, he gripped the hand to stop it.  

Vincent relented but still studied his wounds.  "She tore you apart."

"It looks worse than it is," Sephiroth mumbled, not really caring about it. Yeah, the bruises and gashes ached, stung, and gnawed for his attention, but there were other more pressing things to worry about. Besides, the wounds would heal quickly without any intervention. It was one of his science-given gifts, curses.

The ex-Turk walked away and pulled a chair up to him. He didn't bother using his words this time as he pushed Sephiroth down into it and walked away, obviously expecting him to stay there. And he did. He just watched Jenova in her drug induced sleep, lost in what she'd said and Vincent didn't say.

Normally he wasn't so indecisive. Normally he could lead, assault, pillage, do whatever was necessary to achieve the objective. Now... 

Well, then again, perhaps it was as simple as that. Perhaps he just needed an objective. He needed some kind of goal to be able to make a decision again. But what exactly was he supposed to work towards? Saving Vincent?  Keeping ShinRa and SOLDIER at bay? Saving the world? Or merely saving himself?

He saw the people he cared about in his mind: Angeal. Genesis. Cloud. 

And a short distance away, there was Vincent.

His chest tightened and teeth gritted as he fought tears. He didn't notice Vincent's returning footsteps until the gunman was standing in front of him. The older man sat down on the bed, leaned forward, and began wiping off drying blood and dried sweat from his skin with a wet towel. Sephiroth looked at the other man, his mind not really wrapping around Vincent's fatherly attentions. 

"Was I this pathetic in the future?"

A small smile curved Vincent's mouth, as he dipped the towel in the bowl for more water. With just the first twist, the whole of the water tinged red. "In certain ways, for a time, maybe. But eventually, I don't think you even felt fear, could reason. And that wasn't a good thing. It got you killed more than once."

Sephiroth huffed a laugh. "But isn't that a good thing?"

"I suppose, in a way, but you also took many people down with you."

Aquamarine eyes drifted shut and he let himself live in Vincent's touches. His head began to shake as he tried to hold back a dark chuckle that threatened to shake his body. "I'm so fucking sorry for what I did in the future. I'm sorry you had to come back here. I'm sorry I didn't listen to Cloud. I mean, can I be any sorrier?" Vincent hushed him and he opened his eyes, wanting to glare, but he couldn't find the strength. "I just don't know what to do anymore. My whole life has been dictated day by day for me. I-I need to know what to do."

"We will figure it out."

Sephiroth looked over the man. Vincent's hair was now more than half white. His face seemed paler than ever which strongly pronounced the dark circles forming under his eyes. Surely the stress over everything wasn't helping the gunman's state, helping him keep his health. And, angering himself, the younger man knew he was only adding to his stress by being so weak.

The swordsman murmured, "I'm sorry," and truly meant it.

"So am I."

The other man not meeting his gaze, Sephiroth had a feeling the gunman's words pertained to far too many things. Vincent had nothing to be sorry for though. And he'd done so much for him, for so many people, and only asked for a certain amount obedience for it. Even if the ex-Turk had accidentally managed to bring death to the planet, at least he hadn't meant to do it, had had the best intentions. 

Sephiroth gripped the hand at his chest so that Vincent couldn't pull away too easily, if he had the intent to, and leaned forward. Crimson eyes widened slightly at the sudden change, but then heated as he seemed to realize what was about to happen. He gripped Vincent's chin and bushed his lips over Vincent's tight ones.

"Sephiroth, why would you..."

"Why would I what?" Sephiroth waited only a moment and then kissed him, loving the growing heat he felt in both of their bodies. But Vincent wouldn't kiss back, well, only would just a little. Finally he pulled back enough to study the other man's face. Vincent looked so unsure that it dampened Sephiroth's motivation a bit. "Would I, what?" He huffed humorlessly. "Want you?"

When Vincent suddenly tried to pull away, Sephiroth felt he was right with the guess. Vincent said, "We shouldn't be doing this."

Sephiroth shoved his hand forward to the back of his lover's neck, twining into raven and white hair, gripping him, before Vincent could back up too much or pull away from him completely. If the other man truly wanted to get away, he was going to have to lose a lot of hair in the process.

Then he pulled Vincent back and kissed him again, showing him all of his passion for him. Even he hadn't realized how much passion he'd had until that moment. It came gushing over all of the blockades he'd built up in his mind over far too many years of abuse and forced submission. Even he hadn't realized how fiercely he could love another person. And the realization pulled a moan out of him. He didn't ever want to let Vincent go. He'd already let far too much go. He couldn't let this go. Not anymore.

Quickly, urgently, Vincent kissed him back. When the swordsman felt light-headed and out of breath, he finally pulled away and rested his forehead against Vincent's. He took to kissing Vincent's hand he still held instead and listened to the gunman's heavy breaths.

"I love you, Vincent. So much that... I'm going to make this right. You won't let you die."

Vincent kissed him again, hungrily, but then pulled away and said, "There's nothing that can stop the progression. It's been tried. Chaos is much more of a concern right now."

Even though he didn't buy what Vincent said, he nonetheless said, "Then what are we going to do?"

"I don't know."

Sephiroth shook his head, holding the back of his neck tighter, refusing to let him go.  "Someone else can take Chaos inside of themselves. Or we could just put him back in the cave."

"There's no way he'd simply stay in the cave anymore now that he's gained consciousness. As for someone else taking him, who would do it?"

"I could."

"No, that's not a good idea."

The younger man huffed. "What? Because of my psychotic tendencies?"

"Yes."

Sephiroth found he couldn't take any offence to the answer. It was probably truer than he wanted to admit. "There must be someone."

"I don't know who would have the strength, either physically or mentally. I'm not even sure how I've managed it all these years."

How he managed it? A frown overtook Sephiroth as he pulled away and looked down at Jenova. He remembered how terrified she'd been when she'd seen Chaos. "Could she have done it?"

Vincent looked to her as well. The gunman frowned himself. After a moment, he offered, "Lucrecia wrote in her journal that a stream, in the cave I took you to, contained contaminated deposits of bioplasma that overflowed from the 'pure' Lifestream. It was the place where my father and Lucrecia thought Chaos would emerge from. And, of course, it is where he emerged. But I've never understood why she said 'contaminated'? Why would the planet create something like him, a contamination, and then expel it like a sore?  I mean, perhaps it was just a reaction to the pain of the reactors. The planet can only take so much...  Or perhaps Chaos, or whatever is inside of me, was never meant to be in the planet in first place. Anything is a possibility." Vincent shook his head, lost in his thoughts. "But I don't know."

"You said Aeris might have answers."

"Maybe... But, no. I couldn't go to her at this point. It's not a good idea for me to transform anymore. I don't know if I have the strength to hold him back, especially since he knows what we're talking about. Perhaps he's just been waiting for me to die. I'd rather not give him the opportunity to speed it along."

"I could take you then."

Vincent smiled at him. "But what could she really do?"

"Well, we have the right questions now. She can ask the planet what to do."

"I don't want to be anywhere near her right now."

The words made Sephiroth straighten and fully take stock of the man he held. "What are you saying? You're acting like you're giving up." Sephiroth's frown intensified when Vincent refused to meet his eyes. "Actually, you're acting like you already have something planned. Vincent, what are you going to do?"

Sephiroth was suddenly glad he was still gripping the gunman because Vincent suddenly tried to stand up in a clear attempt to avoid the confrontation. Vincent's lips pressed together in obvious frustration. Then, confusing Sephiroth, drowning him in heat, Vincent pushed forward, the bowl clattering to the floor, and straddled his lap, claiming his mouth, kissing him deeply and without reservation.

Then Vincent pulled away, yanking his shirt off without bothering to unbutton it before he wrapped his arms around Sephiroth's shoulders. In between kisses, he begged, "Tell me you love me again."

The younger man licked and nipped at Vincent's jaw, neck, shoulders, chest, and the scars riddling the flesh, not caring that Jenova slept in front of him, hidden by Vincent's body. 

In the dark, the night lit slightly by their mako eyes and the moon outside, Vincent unfastened his pants, stood up, and pulled them down just enough to give access. Sephiroth set to work on his own, knowing he should have some kind of rational thoughts in his head, but couldn't seem to find them, or at least couldn't seem to make them matter as Vincent tilted his hips to align himself. 

Working against time and urges, Sephiroth spit in his hand, and stroked his length tightly bringing precum to pool at the tip. He smeared that as well as Vincent pumped his own cock so close to Sephiroth's face. He wanted to taste him, but the angle was wrong and the other man was too close. 

Sephiroth groaned his frustration, but then his pleasure as Vincent shifted back and pressed the head of Sephiroth's erection against his entrance. The press was slow, agonizingly slow, but the silver-haired man took great pleasure in it, as he felt Vincent open up to him. Sephiroth shifted down slightly, bringing his hips to tilt up, and Vincent pressed down more, making himself gasp as the tip entered him. 

The gunman was so hot, so blessedly tight, he never wanted to lose the feeling of it. Slowly, still oh so slowly, Vincent worked the length into his body with up and down motions with his hand and claw on the silver-haired man's shoulders. Sephiroth gripped his hips, giving himself something to concentrate on to help distract himself from the quickly building pleasure, as much as to help the gunman take his length inside.

When their groins finally met, Vincent kissed him as if they were each other's air. Then his hips began a rhythm that made every part of the gunman sing with life, but a life which gradually moved to the base of his groin. The ex-Turk's erection ran up and down his chest a couple of time before Sephiroth remembered himself and gripped it, pumping it in rhythm to their fucking.

Again, the gunman breathed, "Tell me you love me."

Sephiroth, realizing he hadn't said it the last time Vincent had asked, growled, "I love you so much. I'm not going to let you go."

Because at that moment, Sephiroth was certain Vincent was going to do something. He'd known that kind of look Vincent had shown him earlier in his own eyes far too often to not recognize it.

A small choked sob came out of Vincent, making Sephiroth's eyes flash open, but the older man didn't stop his motions, even for a heartbeat. Vincent worked the cum out of him with enthusiasm that made Sephiroth's mind so weak and hungry at the same time.

Vincent rode him until Sephiroth came deep inside of the other man. 

As the orgasm hit, Sephiroth pleaded, "God, Vincent, don't stop. Please don't stop." 

Moments later, drained from the orgasm, his mind still half in it, Sephiroth continued to pump with his hand until he felt slashes of semen line his damp chest. Vincent groaned with each ejaculation, as if pained him.

Then Vincent wrapped his arms fully back around him and kissed him slowly, Sephiroth's cock still hard and deep inside of him. He felt himself twitch occasionally at the tightness of the gunman's body which brought weak moans from Vincent. Slowly, the older man began to ride the erection again, his insides slippery with Sephiroth's cum, and showed no mercy until Sephiroth had come once again inside of him.

And swordsman still didn't want to leave his body. Ever.

And when the man's hot body tried to slip away, Sephiroth grabbed him around the waist and held him there. "Don't leave."

"She's going to wake up soon."

"Then let her fucking watch."

Vincent huffed a bit of exasperated laughter. "That wouldn't bother you?"

"Maybe tomorrow it will, but right now..." To emphasis his point, he gripped the other man's hips and pushed him back down onto his length before lifting and pushing. 

Soon enough, Vincent relinquished and Sephiroth took him down onto the hardwood floor, yanking off the gunman's boots, pulling his pants off so that he could spread him fully, and fucked him hard so that his body jutted on the floor with each solid pump. The younger man felt as if he had years of making up to do and he wasn't about to lift his chin at the chance.

Tilting his own hips, Vincent bit at his hand to stifle the moans and breathy sounds that popped out of him with each thrust. The man was so unbelievably beautiful, his pale skin damp and his cheeks flushed with blessed color, as he took Sephiroth inside of him with complete willingness and desire that matched Sephiroth's own.

Sephiroth used one of his hands for support. The other hand he used to aggressively pump Vincent until the gunman's cum painted his chest and dribbled down his length. With the new moisture, his cock was slick, but Vincent nonetheless hissed with each aggressive pump. Sephiroth knew what he felt, but the man didn't stop him, so he continued to pound into him until he'd once gain reached orgasm. He pressed his hips, making sure Vincent's body took every bit of what he offered.

Finally, his body beating him down, he stilled, panting, and then a minute later, pulled himself out of Vincent's body. The gunman hissed with it. Sephiroth could understand. He'd felt that kind of burn before. But he loved Vincent for taking it and smiling at him for it. Sephiroth smiled back weakly. As much as he hated to admit it, his body still wasn't fully back to normal, otherwise he would have gone on much longer. 

Instead, he pulled Vincent's naked body back up onto his lap and kissed him. The gunman's hair shrouded them both. He wanted to be lost in it, lost in him forever. 

Finally the ex-Turk pulled away and, with his eyes closed, rested his forehead to Sephiroth's, as his breathing slowly evened out.

Still panting slightly, Sephiroth asserted, "We're going to work on this together. You didn't come all this way just to bail out on me. I mean, if you do... What if I go crazy or something? You wouldn't want that."

Vincent huffed. "Are you threatening me?"

"Are you?"

"Sephiroth... I have to make this right. I have to make sure you're safe. Or this will have all been pointless."

"By doing what?"

"That doesn't matter."

"God, don't try to save me from some misery, because you're only making it worse by doing it."

Vincent pulled away and looked at him in the dark of the night. He was silent for a moment, but then murmured, "If the planet could control Chaos before, then I'm going to the reactor."

"You're not."

"What else can we do? I won't take the chance that Jenova is wrong. A day or two longer isn't worth you dying for."

"That can't be the only way, and it might not even be the way.  Like you said before, maybe the planet is exhausted and won't be able to contain Chaos. You still have a least a few more days. You can wait, and if we don't find a way, I'll throw you in myself, if that's really what you want."

"What are we going to do then?" Vincent's voice sounded hallow, lost, and it crept unease back into Sephiroth, but he tried to hold it at bay.

The swordsman gripped Vincent's cheeks with his hands, one of them still slick and scented with the saltiness of Vincent's cum, knowing in the back of his mind that they both needed a good long shower, preferably together, and said, "We'll wait for her to wake up and then get the answers we need. Whether she likes it or not."


	17. The Vision

Giving his groin a quick wash with icy water, cringing and jerking through what basically amounted to torture, Sephiroth couldn’t stop wishing for that steamy, body-groping shower with Vincent.  Touching himself wasn't nearly as pleasurable, especially at that moment.  When the chore was done, he found his way back through the darkened hallway and into the bedroom where Jenova slept off her drug-induced coma.  Vincent still stood next to the doorway where he'd left him, and he took his spot.

"The water is fucking freezing.  Good luck."

Vincent smirked, pity in his eyes, and made his own trip to the bathroom.  The man would be pitying himself any second, and Sephiroth intently listened for signs of a shriveling dick and balls, mostly as an amusement to distract himself from who was on the bed.  Maybe they should have taken the time to heat some water up, he thought as he continued to listen.

Minutes later, the unexpected sound of footsteps going down the stairs forced Sephiroth to frown.  He almost followed after the gunman to demand to know where he was going, afraid Vincent would keep on walking right out the door and... 

That Vincent could so easily come to the conclusion of taking his own life...  Yes, the older man had come to this time knowing he was going to die, but still... 

Sephiroth's gut clenched at the thoughts, at inevitable death.  Then he shook his head, closing his eyes. 

No, Vincent wouldn't do it behind his back.  He'd agreed to wait, to find another way.  And Vincent Valentine, the ex-Turk, demon-carrier, insurgent, and speaker-of-incomplete-sentences that he was, was completely trustworthy, right?

Right...  Sephiroth pressed his lips together and crossed his arms tightly around his chest to provide some type of false restraint.  Fear and trust battled it out inside of his exhausted mind.

When he heard no indication of where Vincent had gone, his mind and body deteriorating with everything, he glared at the sleeping, tied-up woman, the creature whom he'd inadvertently brought into the middle of all of this.  The said glare wasn't really for her though.

He should have tied Vincent up as well.

Why couldn't she just wake up already, so they could draw every bit of knowledge out of her and finally come up with a plan that didn't involve Vincent dying?  He hated waiting.  He was built and trained for response, action, conquering, not for sitting on his ass waiting for something to happen. 

In the dim light of an oil lamp he'd found in the study, it was only minutes before he began pacing, his mess of hair trailing behind him.  His throat producing vibrant growls.  His head often shaking with abandon.  His fist tightening over and over, searching for Masamune.  All in an effort to not explode from the tension of everything. 

Then, finally, blessing him, he heard the faintest rustling of blankets.  He came to a standstill and scrutinized the body in the bed.  Jenova's eyes blinked groggily in the weak light.  She twisted a bit and then began struggling, probably finally noticing the restraints on her wrists and ankles.  Whimpers and then small cries escaped her full mouth.  So much so that he suddenly felt an absurd twinge of sympathy.  Nonetheless he kept his distance.

There was no point in trying to talk to her at that point, her mind surely groggy and confused with the drug that had obviously worked quite well on her.  Assuming she was an alien, he didn't know how similar they were body-wise, but apparently similar enough.

Eventually, she gave up her struggles and merely whimpered something unintelligible.  Then her head lifting a bit as her eyes seemed to latch onto him standing some distance from the bed. 

"Please let me go," she croaked.

His stomach turned over at the misery in her voice, bringing nausea.  She reminded him of himself in far too many ways.  "That's not possible."

"Please."  If someone could hear tears...

Sephiroth instantly wished for the violent, growling alien he had no reason to feel sorry for.  "Don't ask me again."

Her small face plastered itself into the mattress which absorbed the sobs wracking her body.  He wanted to throw something on top of her so he didn't have to watch it.  Instead, against his better judgement, he turned around so he could gather his courage. 

Maybe it was time to call for the ex-Turk. 

Even as he thought it, an absurd need to protect her sprouting up, he knew he couldn’t do it.  With gunman's unfriendly feelings towards her, a hardheartedness that was completely understandable, he was afraid Vincent would get nowhere with her.  She just seemed...  too used to pain and suffering.

"Jenova..." he said quietly as he walked up to the bed.  Her body tensed at the name, but she didn't turn her head in acknowledgement.  He crouched down next to wood frame and placed a hand on the mattress.  "I need you to answer my questions before I can untie you."

The woman began humming, a crooked sound through her sobs, her slim shoulders rocking in time with it.  He listened to her even as the sound made his skin crawl.  The song, as broken as it was, reminded him of a lullaby.

Cautiously, unthinkingly, he reached a hand out, hovering it just over her head by her ear, but didn't dare touch her.  His mouth barely moved when he said, "Talk to me.  Please."

When she seemed to not hear him, he reached down and gently pulled locks of tear-dampened silver hair away from her face.  The moment he touched her, all movement and sound from her stopped, and her breath held.  His fingers revealed bloodshot eyes which were looking right into his own.

She smiled then and reached with her twined-together hands to touch his face, but the moment she touched his skin, she flinched back.  "You look...  so much like her."

"Who?"

"My daughter.  She's...  She's waiting for me."

"What are you talking..." he started but stopped when her face scrunched and tears threatened.

"She's waiting for me," the alien sobbed and buried her face back into the pillow.

Sephiroth stood up and backed away from her.  In his mind, he saw death, so much death.  And endless destruction until there was nothing but dust.  His back hit the far wall.  The vision consumed him.  He felt it all in every cell of his body.  The blood, so much of it, flooding the ground.  The power, the mind-numbing power.  The piercing screams of billions of young, old, unborn souls claimed, some so slowly and agonizingly with their claws and pleas, some so quickly they only knew death, and everything in between.  He felt every single one of them scream at him, a feast.  And he heard a woman laughing, and crying, and shouting, and laughing.  He didn't realize he was screaming until a hand covered his mouth and slammed the back of his head into the wall.  He stared wide-eyed at the red flames of death.

Then the hand released him and he fell to his knees, clawing at his head, his eyes, trying to get the images out.

Barely heard over his own screams, Vincent's enraged voice hollered out, "Stop this!  Stop this now!"

And then the vision stopped as quickly as it'd started.  Gasping, unable to find his breath in his horse throat, he stared out, trying to find reality again.  And he did.  He saw Vincent toss Jenova down like a boneless lump.  Her whole body convulsed.

The gunman stalked out of his line of sight, rummaged in his bag, and stalked right back to the seemingly defenseless woman.  He grabbed her bound hands and secured them to the bedframe with more rope.  His long legs then stalked over to him.  Vincent grabbed him by the upper arm, hauling him up, and forcing him to walk out the doorway and into the hall.  Sephiroth stumbled to the other bedroom with the two beds, only able to stay upright because of Vincent's bruising grip, and then was more or less thrown on top of the first bed. 

Vincent hands groped over him, then grabbed at his face, for once in a completely unsexual way, until Sephiroth shoved them away.  "Tell me you're all right!"  When Sephiroth only went back to grabbing at his hair, Vincent's pounding footsteps raged back and forth off the side of his bed.  "My fucking God!  What the hell were you..."  Vincent grabbed his upper arm, clenching on it painfully with his claw, shaking him a few times.  "You are never going near her again, do you understand me?!  Sephiroth! Nod or something, you fucking bastard!"

Sephiroth tried to nod, he tried so hard, but it came out as a shaking of his head instead with his sobs, his hands gripping tighter at his hair.

"FUCK!"  Booted feet stormed away from him, the door slamming shut, then there was no more sound, except for the far bedroom door slamming so hard it shook dust to flight in his own room.

His body rolled onto its back, as his body convulsed and clenched his eyes shut.  Tears wouldn't stop, wetting his hair, pooling in his ears.  But he was so thankful, oh so thankful to only see black.


	18. The Worth of Love

It took some time, but soon the images faded enough from his memory so that Sephiroth could actually think about what he'd seen instead of merely living the nightmare.  He thought about it all, and then he thought about the obvious:  Vincent and Jenova alone together in a room.  That was all it took to get him out of the bed and room.   He raced death along the dark hallway to the door he heard nothing behind.  His hand touched the smooth metal of the doorknob, and he thought the worst.

It'd been only minutes, but death could come in an instant.  He now knew that fact by a far higher count than a halfway-moral mind ever should.

The swordsman held his breath, but couldn't will his hand to turn the knob, to allow his eyes to bear witness to whatever horrors might be behind the door.  Saving him or damning him, the door suddenly swung open, yanked out of his grip.  Vincent stood glaring pure darkness at him, making his heart race.  The younger man opened his mouth to say something, anything, although nothing came out but jagged breaths.

The other man closed the distance between them in an instant and embraced him so tightly he couldn't breathe in the amount oxygen his stressed-out body needed.  Vincent's normal hand went to the back of his head.  His claw formed the grip from hell around his upper back.  And his lips, a stark contrast, softly kissed his cheek so near his ear that the sound hurt, his tight jaw, his tilting neck, anything that could be reached without letting go. 

The gunman was mumbling something, but the he couldn’t make out the words, although he could guess.  In those words, he heard love and such worry that Sephiroth was so sorry he'd even considered talking to Jenova on his own.

Sephiroth brought his arms around the man's taunt body, running his hands over the length of his back, trying to offer comfort he himself didn't feel.  Soon enough, Vincent loosed his death grip a bit.

When the swordsman could focus again on the rest of the world, unable to help it, he looked across the room, to the bed.  Jenova wasn't moving, her arms still stretched out and tied above her head.

"Did you kill her?" he asked, completely serious with the question.

"No," Vincent said, although his tone said he should have and still wanted to.  "You have no idea the pain that woman has caused."

"I do..." he breathed out, stating the fact as much to himself as to Vincent.  The gunman pulled away enough to look at his face.  Sephiroth swallowed at the other man's sudden hardness.  But unable to keep it in any longer, his spent cries not enough to calm him, he continued with, "I think she destroyed her world...  And others.  But she didn't do it on her own.  I'm positive she had Chaos inside of her.  She's...  she's killed so many people.  She's broken... and I doubt we can fix her with the time we have."

"Don't feel sorry for her."

Sephiroth frowned at his lover.   "I could have been her.  And from what you've told me, I would have been happy to be."

"You weren’t happy."

Huffing, he mumbled, "I can imagine being."

Vincent met his frown with the smallest shake of his head.

Sephiroth cracked a sarcastic smile.  "Don't delude yourself, Vincent.  I'm not a saint and haven't been for years, if ever."

The hand at the back of his head tightened its grip painfully.  The older man's jaw tightened so fiercely that Sephiroth feared it'd fracture.  Crimson eyes searched his face.  "They should have sent me back to an earlier time."

'But then I wouldn't have had this,' he thought.  He rested his forehead against his lover's and closed his eyes, drowning himself in the clean and unclean scents of him.  He didn't want the embrace to end, would have given up anything for it, well, besides the gunman's life which they still had to save.  He ran his hand up into nearly white hair, loving the feel of it between his fingers, the way he could grab it and force the other man's head back to run his mouth along his vulnerable throat.  Instead, he merely whispered, the words still foreign to his lips but meaning every word, "I love you."

"Say it again."

Despite himself, enthralled with the other man's fervor, he smiled and huffed.  "I love you."  Oh, how this man could make him forget everything...  At least temporarily.  He kissed him, briefly, softly, then said, "I'm going to try to talk to her again."

"There's no way in fucking hell that's happening."

"So shoot her or something if she tries anything then.  But without Chaos, I don't think she's capable of much destruction outside of flaying me."

"It's your mind I'm worried about."

Smiling, he gripped Vincent's face with both hands and memorized every part of it while he still could.  The man looked so...  He gritted his teeth for a moment before he could get out, "I know you won't let me drown."

The older man searched his face as well, seeming just as enthralled.  And protective.  To be loved that much by someone...

When he turned his attention back to Jenova, he realized the woman had been watching them, her expression so guarded, it was as if she wasn't seeing them.  Maybe she wasn't.  He pulled away from Vincent and made his way up to her again. 

Her gaze followed his face, fear growing with every step.  "You know what he is."  Her eyes closed again, her head attempting to hide in the crook of her shoulder, a fruitless effort to escape him, and Sephiroth heard screams.  He jerked his head, looking around but, in catching Vincent's dreadful frown, realized they were just in his head. Or her head.

Frowning at her, he breathed in a deep breath, steeling his heart and mind, and said to Vincent, trying to talk normal, despite feeling like he had to yell over the voices, "You said you can hear Chaos.  Do you mean his thoughts, or, well, his voice?"  As he spoke, thankfully, the voices grew quieter as she seemed to catch his words and listen.

Vincent was silent for a moment.  "I only hear what he wants me to hear.  Most of the time, I shut him out."

"She's a telepath.  If you had to hear Chaos every minute..."

The ex-Turk didn't hesitate in the least when he said, "I would have killed myself long ago."

Sephiroth crossed his arms over his chest and turned to the gunman.  "You think Chaos remembers her, right?"  The older man nodded.  "Do you think he remembered her before you touched?"

Brows drawn down, Vincent looked to the floor and thought about it for a moment. "He didn't go silent until we touched."  He met his gaze.  "What does it matter?"

"I'm just trying to understand."  Sephiroth frowned.  "What does she matter to Chaos?  Why is he silent?  Maybe before you touched, he didn't realize or remember that he could live without you.  And she..."  He turned his head to the woman.  "She poses some kind of threat to him."

"You said she destroyed planets with him."

"Yes, but, well, he wasn't free when they did it."

"Sephiroth..."

The younger man re-fixed his gaze on the older one.  The hardness he saw there forced his body to equal it.  "We're going to find a way."

Vincent wrapped his arms around his chest, shaking his head, his eyes closing.  "There isn't a way.  While considering I'm dying soon anyway, even if we tried to transfer Chaos to another body, I wouldn't know how to go about it in the first place. Lucrecia is the one who 'saved' me with him, and she took that knowledge with her into the lifestream."  Crimson eyes reopened and fixed upon the ex-SOLDIER again.  "And for that matter, did you think about the man downstairs?  I've managed to create two of us in my stupidity.  If Chaos can survive me, we're ticking time bombs."

The words enflamed him, rubbing him raw.  "So what do you want to do then?!"  Sephiroth said, unable to calm his raised voice, matching Vincent's  voice in wrath, his hand pointing in some general direction that he thought might lead to the reactor.  "You want me to throw you both down into the fucking reactor then?  Do you really think your other self would..."

The silver-haired man stopped when he realized he didn't want an answer to that question.  Would both men want to die?  He couldn't stomach it.

The gunman watched him for several slow agonizing moments before he murmured, "I came here knowing what I had to do.  I came here to save you.  I've lived a long, long life -"

"Stop! Don't say it," Sephiroth growled, desperate, his arms wrapping around himself to try to find some warmth.  "Why...  Why did you do this?"  He looked to Vincent imploringly, his breaths awkward trembles.  "Why come back here and, and, make me love you like this?!  You've got to be the most selfish person I've ever met in my life!"  His eyes squeezed shut when he felt tears once again threatening.  How did he even have any left?  "Were you thinking about anything but yourself?!"  His eyes flashed back open, daring the ex-Turk, "And don't say you were only thinking about me, or I'll kill you right now."

'And then let Chaos kill me,' he thought with some kind of perverse pleasure.

Vincent stood as stiff as ever, watching him carefully, making Sephiroth want to kill him anyway.

How the hell had he ever fallen into this?  When had Vincent twisted his mind so severely that he couldn’t even protect himself from such an obvious assault?  Cloud hadn't come even slightly close to twisting his mind with all of his devoted love.

Perhaps...  Perhaps the difference now was that, after the war, after so much pain and death from his own sword and command, he was finally ready, more than ready for a change, and -any- out offered would have looked utterly appealing.  And he'd taken up Vincent's offer with so little hesitation...  It boggled his mind that he'd let it all come this far.

Sephiroth took in his lover's hard posture, the other man's eyes never leaving his face.  Yes, he'd let this all go way, way too far.

A reaction, rather than a thought, he shouted, "Just go then!  Go fucking do it!"  When the man didn't move, he rushed at him and shoved him hard.  It was like hitting a brick wall.  The man barely moved, much to his frustration.  Vincent would last at least a while longer.  Days, weeks perhaps, if he found some quiet place to settle down for the rest of his time. 

No, no, he couldn't think that way.  This had to end before he went crazy.  

...At the very least, he had to get away from this man.

Since the other man wouldn't move, he stalked around him, out the door, down the stairs, and into the early morning which the sun still hadn't intruded upon.  Thinking about Masamune but having absolutely no further motivation to go back for the hunk of metal, he stalked through the town, past the Inn, out of the entrance towards the place he'd left Cloud. 

Cloud.  He'd totally forgotten the boy who was hopefully sleeping peacefully and blessedly unaware of what could have been.  And somehow he'd also forgotten his promise to himself to make sure the boy would be safe.  He thought of Angeal, Genesis, Aeris, and every kind person he'd ever met, which were admittedly few, but enough to get him to think about what he was doing.

He clenched his eyes shut for a moment, then shouted, "Fine!" out to no one, his voice almost weak as it drifted over the barren plain.  If this was what fate really wanted of him, so be it.  He'd throw the man down in the reactor, if the gunman hadn't done it himself already.  Then the world could just leave him the hell alone, right? Right?!

He took off into the air, arriving at the mansion in seconds.  He stalked up the stairs to the bedroom and wasn't shocked in the least when he didn't see Vincent there.  Instead, he saw Jenova, free of her bindings, shifting nervously on her feet as she watched the wrath on his face.

"Where did he go," he demanded, a shout.

Her mouth only worked up and down, her face crinkling with her terror.  She brought her clenched hand to her breast, the rocking never stopping.  Watching her, a tiny bit of the rage drained out of him.  As she slightly clenched and unclenched her hand, he realized there was something in it.  Metal that glinted under the lamplight.

He stalked up to her and jutted out his hand. "Give it to me."

What her trembling hand placed in him wasn't what he'd been expecting.  He'd been expecting a weapon.  Instead, it was a key tarnished with age.

"What-what is this for?!"  He couldn't seem to control his voice.  Where had all of his training gone, his pristine ability to keep his emotions in?  But then again, he'd never loved another person so much before, and perhaps he could blame that, just as he blamed the Vincent for forcing the emotion on him in the first place.

"In the basement..." Jenova whispered.

Sephiroth suddenly understood, but couldn't even start going down that road yet.  He looked at her tear-stricken face.  "Jenova, I need you to wait here."  He didn't trust her in the least to roam the landscape.  Surely her mind wasn't prepared for it in the least.  She needed support, counseling, well, a hell of a lot of therapy before she could start to resemble the person she'd obviously once been.  And perhaps even that wasn't possible, her mind too broken.  But, the day before she'd shown signs that she could think rationally.  Perhaps there was hope for her mind.

Again, he insisted, hoping she'd listen.  "Wait here."

And then he jammed the key into his pocket, grabbed Masamune, and was down the stairs and out the door, tracking down Vincent, heading to the only place he thought the man would go.  When he got there though, a quick flight, he couldn't find Vincent inside.  A horrid emotion tried to drag him down to the floor, but then he remembered that Vincent had said he would no longer be transforming into Chaos. 

Had the man actually chosen to walk there?  How long would that take?   And what if he'd completely misinterpreted the man's intentions...  He had no idea where to start looking.  

Unwilling to merely stand there and wait, he took off up into the air and hovered far above the mountain, hoping to find some trace of the raven-haired man.  He was circling when, a half an hour later, he finally caught sight of him winding up a trail, throwing glances up at him as he scaled the rocky path.

The sight brought such relief it astounded him.  At least his lover was stubborn as hell.  Now he just had to discourage the man from being so.  But to what avail...

God, he was so lost...

He landed hard in front of the gunman, several feet away, and Vincent stopped and watched him, absolutely no emotion escaping him.  The standoff lasted nearly a minute before Vincent started shaking his head.

"You can't save me, Sephiroth," the man he loved said, a small smile slipping. 

The smile pissed Sephiroth off, a cover to ignore the absurd heat in his gut so that it didn't travel to his face.  This man had no right to be so giddy about the younger man's emotions, absorbing them like an overly dry sponge. 

But it wasn't just his own unwanted emotions that bothered him about the smile, nor the unwavering commitment of Vincent and Cloud.  This was all so absurd, every bit of it.  How could one man be so much to so many people, whether those emotions were love or hate?  No one person should have had that much influence, that much power.  He thought of Jenova.  No, no one should.  "You shouldn't have come here in the first place.  I..."

He couldn't say, 'I don't want your death on my hands,' as it seemed far too much like acceptance.

Vincent smiled fully then.  "It was worth it."

The man -was- selfish.  Obscenely so.  And he was terribly easy to please, Sephiroth being a terrible companion/friend/lover over the last few days.  Well, then again, the love-making hadn't been so bad...

When the ex-Turk suddenly tried to step around him, he grabbed him by the arm, restraining him with a grip he hoped was painful so that the other man could feel some of the pain he was feeling.  But then again, maybe Vincent was suffering, at least in some part of him, but was good at hiding it.

Exasperated, at his wits end, he growled, "You're leaving me with a hell of a life, you know.  ShinRa will never leave me alone.  My friends, they hate me now.  Jenova, God only knows what she's going to do.  And..."

_And I won't have you._

Vincent looked away from him, towards the horizon, and breathed in a healthy lung-full of air.  "Do you know what you could do for me?  Since you seem to think I've done too much for you..." Sephiroth didn't know whether to snort or cry at the words. The raven/white-haired man looked him in the eye and Sephiroth couldn't help the heat at his cheeks at the fire he saw in those crimson eyes. "You can wake me up, end my nightmares, forgive me, and let me live.  I've been trapped in myself for far too long."  Then he smiled, a hand reaching up to tuck silver locks behind Sephiroth's ear, a touch he couldn't help but lean into.  "He doesn't know you like I do, but he loves you.  And he would do anything for you.  Even die for you.  I know that for a fact...  Will you do that for me?"

Terrible tears finally came to his eyes and he couldn't answer.  Instead, he grabbed his lover by the shirt and yanked him against his body, kissing him like it was the last thing he'd ever do.  It felt like the last thing.  It felt like the end. 

After an endless minute, Vincent pulled away from him, looking at him steadily, but with such intensity that Sephiroth almost thought he'd change his mind.  But then he smiled again and walked around him and up the rocky path.  To a destiny that everything in Sephiroth said he should deny him.


	19. What Crawls in Basements

Sephiroth charged after the other man, grabbing his swinging forearm, and got assaulted by Vincent's cold look.  But instead of stopping the gunman, the silver-haired man dropped his hand to the other man's hand and held it, squeezing it as if it was a lifeline. The gunman blinked down at their hands and then his face tightened and he looked to the path ahead.  It was in that moment that Sephiroth knew his lover feared.

His lips pressed together as they walked, him knowing he couldn't trust himself to talk.  What more could he say than he already had?  Nor did he want Vincent to chase him away as his mind seemed set in concrete.

Instead, with their brisk pace, the swordsman hoped that each pounding of his feet on the dusty path would pound some glorious savior of an idea into his head.  He was no scientist.  The only scientist he'd known he'd killed.  Aquamarine eyes closed at the memory of agonized screams and sword-and-fist-drawn blood.  It startled him that he'd forgotten all about his father until that moment.  Just days ago, the man had been almost a daily part of it with his tests and experiments.  Now, he never would be again.

Distracting him, Vincent drew the hand to his mouth and brushed the suddenly sensitive flesh with his lips, almost absentmindedly.  But it felt like a charge in Sephiroth's body and made him totally focused on him.

He wanted to beg him.  _Don't do this.  Please don't do this._   He had to crinkle up his face to keep the sob at bay.

Vincent held the hand to his cheek, closing his eyes briefly.  "You're right.  I am selfish.  I came here wanting far more than I had any right to have..."  Surprised by the admission, Sephiroth studied the side of his sickly, beautiful face as they walked and watched a smile form.  The gunman kissed his hand again and then brought it back to their sides.  "I was a little more than shocked by your aggressiveness, but I did attempt to fend you off...  Although, admittedly, it was a weak effort."

Letting the conversation soothe him, with the memories it held polished with time, the younger man offered, "You said if I'd known who you were I might have changed my mind."  He smirked.  "I'm sure you were right."

"Amazingly enough, I sometimes am."  Vincent's thumb caressed his hand, as he grew silent for a moment.  "Tomorrow, don't regret any of this.  If we've had any sway, the world will be a different place now, hopefully a better one.  And you've saved far more lives than you realize, more than you've destroyed."

He wasn't so sure about those numbers, but he'd stopped keeping count during the war.  He'd almost stopped seeing, although that hadn't stopped the nightmares of what his subconscious saw anyway.  Instead of disagreeing, he offered, "So have you, I’m sure."

"I hope so."  It was quiet for a couple of minutes, but then Vincent broke the silence with, "And you're right, you're not safe anymore. You should leave this place and stay away from anything that has to do with ShinRa."

The 'alone' part was heavily implied.  Of course the conversation had to go this way, but unwilling to fight about Vincent taking his life, he said instead, hoping to get a different reaction out of him, "I'll have to take her with me."

"That's not wise."

"And it's wise to let her wander the countryside unescorted?"

Vincent was silent and Sephiroth knew he'd won that one, but he'd hoped for more of a reaction, a desire from the gunman to stick around for a while longer and, well, protect him.  And in all honesty, he'd have felt safer.  Being with Jenova put fear into his bones and mind in more than one way.  And it was one thing to drug her and tie her up.  It was quite another to treat her like an equal.  He wasn't even sure he could do that with her mental state.

Turning his attention away from her, an obstacle that dimmed to the present moment, he wished Vincent would have come to him sooner so that their time together could have been longer. 

Three months...  That was more than enough to time figure one another out and love or despise each other by the end.  For all he knew, at the moment, their relationship was based on the conflict that had brought them together, and when everything was over, they might very well have realized they weren't meant to be together.  Maybe.  But, at that moment, he couldn't imagine that.

He couldn't imagine it at all, no matter his mental swings and frustrations.  After all, here he was, hand in hand with the man, walking to Vincent's deathbed, and all he wanted to do was save him, have some kind of warped life with him, one that would have verged on perfection.

The notion finally broke him down.  Tears flowed down his cheeks, and he turned his head to the horizon to avoid Vincent seeing.

Vincent must have heard the change in his breaths, his body's firmness though as he suddenly stopped mid-step and halted the younger man.  Sephiroth kept his body turned, refusing to look, not wanting the other man, anyone to see his weakness. 

He was so weak.  How anyone had ever seen him as strong, he didn't know.  Following orders, having his life run for him, destroying with the power ShinRa gave him wasn't strength. 

Saying no when something was so obviously wrong was strength.

He chewed on his lip, trying to regain some control, looking to the ground when Vincent walked around to the front of him.  He didn't bother wiping at the lines.  In the darkness, they would have been difficult to see. 

The claw cupped his cheek, their hands still entwined.  "I..." Vincent started.  The hand gripped tighter, bringing a shot of pain through it.  "I'm trying to see this through, but you're making it difficult."

Sephiroth huffed, a sound more like a sob.   "Good."

"I don't want to leave you."

Finally, he met the other man's eyes.  "Then don't!  You don't have to do this.  At least not now.  We can find a place, away from ShinRa, and just, just live."

"With Jenova?"

"Well, we'll tie her up outside like a dog or something.  I really don't care.  This...  We haven't even had a chance."

The claw twining through his bangs, drawing them off his face, Vincent staring intently at him, obviously trying to come to some type of decision.  And the relief that brought filled Sephiroth with such joy that he could hardly contain it.

"I'm so lost in you," Sephiroth whispered, bringing his own free hand up to run the back of it over Vincent's cheek.  "Please, stay with me."

And then Vincent's mouth covered his, demanding a kiss he was thrilled to provide.  He wrapped his hand behind the gunman's head, bringing their mouths to clash.  Their bodies sought each other's heat.

An hour later, an elation flooding him that he hoped would never dissipate, they found their way back down the mountain. The sun brightened the edge of the sky and brought songs from the birds in the distance.  The chilled morning grass wet their boots.  They tromped hand in hand until they turned the corner of the wall that fenced ShinRa mansion.

Oblivious, forgetting who he was and what he'd done, Sephiroth almost didn't notice the gathering of ShinRa troops until were casually standing in front of them.  Vincent noticed them at nearly the same moment and yanked him back behind the wall.  The twirling and ducking motion dragged the edge of his sword on the ground, creating noise they didn't need.  He held his breath, waiting for alarm that, considering the group's distance, luckily never came.

"They might not be here for us," Vincent whispered.  "They might have been sent to check the reactor."

Sephiroth shook his head.  He'd seen a person in the crowd, someone he didn't want to see.  "Tseng is with them," he hissed.  "He wouldn't come all the way out here just to check on a reactor."

"Then someone in town must have called someone.  Considering the reactor went down and we showed up around the same time, well..."

"Jenova, we need to get to her."

Vincent nodded, to his relief.

"And...  and what about you?  I mean..."

"I don't know what Tseng knows about the mansion.  But the door to the basement is well hidden.  We shouldn't worry about it right now."

"But he's you.  You were on the surveillance footage at ShinRa Headquarters.  If anyone recognized you..."

"They wouldn't know to look for me here."

"You're sure?"

Vincent was silent, his eyes closed for a moment.  "This is the last I was known to be alive, besides at the ShinRa building the other day.  If they're looking for me, they'll search here."

And that presented problems that Sephiroth knew he wasn't prepared to deal with.  But he had to.  "If they find him, he won't know what hit him, and they'll torture him, even though he can't tell them a thing.  And if he dies in the process... We need to get them both out."

With obvious reluctance, Vincent finally nodded.  Well, it was more than reluctance.  It was more like the man had just been assigned toilet duty for the entire ShinRa building and everyone had the craps that day.  Just an hour before, Vincent had made his younger self into someone to be saved, now...

"You get him," the ex-Turk growled, an order, "I'll find Jenova."

"She's not going to go with you."

"I'm not planning on giving her a choice."

Not seeing time to argue, Sephiroth shook his head to dismiss the other man's intent and his own inner plea to not go in the basement, and instead tried to align everything in his mind: where he had to go, the distances, the obstacles.  He visualized it all in a moment and then jumped gracefully over the wall.  Vincent was a step behind and then streaked ahead of him in his inhuman way and into the door, leaving it slightly ajar, Sephiroth noticed when he reached it.  He ducked inside and closed it, locking it.  Maybe they'd be lucky and no one would have a key.

Slitted eyes watched out a slim window for a moment, trying to see if anyone had noticed them.  They were still too far in the town to really pay attention to what was happening beyond ShinRa Mansion's gate.  But he couldn't see Tseng anymore.

Wasting no more time, he flew up the stairs, into the bedroom where Vincent had already knocked out Jenova, probably with another tranquilizer, and was rolling her body in thin sheet, presumably to make it easier to carry her.

The swordsman watched them for only a second before he grabbed the still-lit lantern, rushed to the concealed door, opened it, and jumped down the middle of the spiral staircase, landing softly on his feet.  He ran for the door, grabbed the key out of his coat, put it into the lock, and finally realized what exactly he was about to do.

Did he really want to do this?  He shook his head with abandon, growling through his teeth.  He didn't have a choice in the matter. Well, he did but refused to give himself that choice, not able to allow this...  well, man, the only word he dared to put to him, to be punished for what they'd done.

With a stiff turn of his wrist, the door unlocked with a solid click, and he stalked his way inside before he could lose his nerve.  He'd known to expect coffins from what Vincent had told him.  But to see them there...  Coffins...  What a way to store a person who would never die.  He himself would have gone insane and clawed and kicked the thing apart.  That Vincent could have willingly stayed in one for so many years...  It was incomprehensible.  Then, remembering what Vincent had asked of him, he wondered if he'd ever told the Vincent upstairs that he was forgiven, that he held nothing of the past against him.  He couldn't remember.  But if not, his love seemed to be more than enough.

With this man...  Who -was- Vincent...

The man growled, put the lamp down, and stalked to the right one.  Nothing.  The middle one.  That one was locked, but he couldn't figure out how by running his fingers along it.  Getting overly frustrated, he almost banged on the thing. 

Well, he supposed, he could knock.  The idea was funny and gut turning at the same time.

So, he made a fist and rapped a couple of times on the wood.  For several too long moments, nothing happened, and Sephiroth was about to start molesting the wood again, when he heard a click, and the wood jerked open along the side, nailing him right in his face.  He fell back, catching himself, but tangling his hands in his hair in the process, which in turn painfully yanked on the locks.

Hissing his dismay, he tried to work his hands and cuffs of his armor out of the rat's nest he hadn't been taking care of lately.  He'd have to shave his head soon if he didn't give it some attention. 

The chore of detangling not nearly complete, when he jerked a look up, crimson red eyes were already looking right at him.


	20. Saying the Name

With what pretty much amounted to indifference to the few moments of the swordsman's struggles on the ground, when Vincent finally asked in a low voice, "What do you want?" Sephiroth had managed to gain some dignity by standing upright while refusing to rub at the pain on his forehead.  Already standing up, the other man's glowing eyes took in all of him, from his armor, to his sword that had jabbed into his gut at his fall, to his face and hopefully not the reddening burn he could feel there.  Hopefully he wasn't going to be plucking out splinters, as the casket wasn't exactly of the highest quality.

The other man seemed unimpressed, annoyed even.  And it occurred to Sephiroth that this man had absolutely no idea who he was, nor did he seem to care.  Of course, whatever life this man had, it all dwelled inside of the box, not out.

It also occurred to him that this man didn't love him, not in the way he'd imagined it when Vincent had spoken to him.  This Vincent apparently loved him by name only.  And that should have been obvious since they'd never truly met until that moment, if he didn't count the man's older self.

Sephiroth swallowed, trying to work some thought-processes into his tangled mind.

Was he to tell the truth?  How long would that even take?  And what if, after hearing there was another Vincent waiting upstairs, the man refused to come with him, just as the older Vincent didn't want to see his double.

No, they didn't have time for the truth.

Steeling himself, he said with a harshness he certainly felt, "You need to come with me.  There are men outside looking for you, and they may very well kill you."  He didn't truly know if they were looking for him or not.  He just needed to get the man upstairs.

Looking so much, well, exactly like his lover days before, the raven-haired man was motionless, staring with an intensity that made Sephiroth want to drag him up the stairs, whether he liked it or not, both to get the stare to stop and them headed in the right direction before he had a complete mental breakdown at everything.  It was a breakdown he could feel parading through his mind, trying to find a foothold.

Finally, apparently deciding to believe the swordsman, Vincent said with a bit of interest, "Who?"

"ShinRa," Sephiroth blurted out, relieved at the bit of progress with a man he knew could be utterly hardheaded.  "And we don't have time for the details, unless you would prefer a bloodbath on your hands."

Vincent frowned at him, his arms crossing over his chest, the man as a whole speaking little of self-preservation.  Whether or not this man aided him in making the deaths happen, he wasn't about to let the other man die, although for much more straightforward reasons than he wouldn't let the man upstairs die.  And did this Vincent really just have to stand there like that, staring?  What was worse than a Vincent Valentine who spoke half-sentences?  One who didn't speak any.

Trying to move it along, he growled, "When we leave this place, I assure you, you'll have more answers than you could possibly want, but we need to leave first."

Then, a bit of distance outside of the door, the man himself unseen in the darkness, the older Vincent's voice snarled, "A group is coming towards the mansion.  Leave him, if he won't come."  When the swordsman didn't move, never mind his younger version, he added, "We'll give you a chance at Hojo, if you come with us now."

The Vincent in front of him had jerked his head to the sound of the voice, and seemed to take a much greater interest in it than in Sephiroth.  Probably doubting the obvious as his imagination, the last words merely brought the man's teeth to grind and his gaze to the ground.  It only took a few seconds of contemplation to get a response, as the man dripped fury.  That the mere idea of Hojo would get such a reaction...   How had Vincent stayed in here knowing the scientist still walked about, well, -had- walked about? But Sephiroth didn't argue with Vincent's idea for motivation since the ex-Turk seemed perfectly fine with lying to his younger self.

Finally, the middle man eyed him and the dark hallway suspiciously and stated, "I'll be the one to kill him."

Sephiroth nodded once and kept it at that.  The more details they added, the more questions the other man would rightfully ask, and the more they'd be delayed.

The younger Vincent walked gracefully out of his coffin and stalked to the door, as if he hadn't been a sleeping stiff for the past couple of decades.  Sephiroth followed, relieved out of his mind, and then nearly ran into the back of him when the other man stopped without warning.  And no, he didn't smell like spring flowers.

"Take this and use it."  A dull thud told him Vincent had shoved something at his younger self, and he had to presume it was a gun.  "He's to be protected at all costs.  Do you understand me?"  There was the slightest pause to be sure the words were understood, then the flap of the older man's cape followed his flow down the hallways and his escape of the basement.

The man in front of him stood there, seemingly frozen.  Sephiroth didn't blame him.  He himself was startled by the command which had sent heat through him.  But if this Vincent had gotten a good view of that man, he had a hell of a lot more than Sephiroth to work through his head.

Mentally shaking himself out of his stupor, Sephiroth stalked around the other man. "We need to leave."  When he didn't hear footsteps behind him, he commanded out of a growing dread with a half-way turn of his head, "Ask your questions later.  We're leaving -now-."

After he'd said it, he couldn't help shake his head at the whole situation.  What a group they were.  Three, well, technically four of the most destructive people in the world banded together to try to save it from themselves.  Could any normal mind hope to comprehend the absurdity of it?  He doubted the ShinRa troops outside would even try.

Running light booted footsteps down the hallway, towards the light upstairs, he breathed a jagged sigh of relief when the other man followed him by the time he was halfway through.  Maybe the man wanted answers more than his nightmares.  Maybe the man really was hell bent on punishing the man who'd brought him so much pain.  Whatever the reason, he was following, and that was more than enough to satisfy the swordsman.

When he reentered the now empty bedroom, the fourth wheel close behind, he skidded to a halt and drew his sword when a different raven-haired man walked past the entryway with quiet grace.  Tseng's gun instantly leveled itself at his heart.  The man was expressionless although his tense body betrayed his cautiousness.

"Sephiroth, I'm here to return you to ShinRa Headquarters.  Come with me now."

Was he serious?  The younger man couldn't help his stunned frown.  He'd expected a battle for everything he'd done.  Did they really still want him back?  Was he worth so much that they'd look away from the death and destruction?  Perhaps it was a trap and they planned to interrogate him until he bled out like Hojo had.  Or perhaps, ShinRa, not truly knowing what was going on, preferred to believe the best, that the situation could be salvaged in some way that aligned with their best interests.

Then the younger Vincent was behind him, and the Turk's weapon switched targets.  The ex-Turk's gun instantly raised at the threat, his arm lifting by the swordsman's, Sephiroth becoming a meat shield between them.

"Drop your weapon and surrender, Mr. Valentine.  No one needs to die here today."

Sephiroth himself might have been able to get away with everything that had been done, but he assumed ShinRa had no real stake in Vincent.  The man was an obstacle of a goal more than anything, as well as the definite object of their retaliation if Sephiroth wasn't.  In the end, he was someone he couldn't allow to be in ShinRa's hands.

Unexpectedly, Tseng stiffened, his dark eyes widening a touch. 

"You're right, no one does," Sephiroth's lover's steeled voice ground out from behind the Turk. "Drop the gun and put your hands behind your back."  When the man still didn't move, Vincent added, "I'd rather you not suffer unneeded indignity."

The gun was held up for another moment, before his arm dropped but the firearm didn't.  "My team will be upstairs in a moment."

"They've been taken care of."  The gun was ripped from his hand by a claw Sephiroth knew so well.  "Next time you should stick with them."

Tseng turned his head at that, then his body, apparently needing to see exactly who he was up against, while stating, "This building has been surrounded.  There's...  What is..."  The man turned his head back to the younger Vincent and was about to do a double take when the ex-Turk nailed him with Tseng's own gun, knocking him out, his body slamming to the ground.

Stalking into the room, Vincent swooped down, grabbed the Turk by the arm, and dragged him to the bed, during which he looked to the two other men and glowered, saying, "That wasn't exactly what I mean by protecting."

The younger Vincent forced his way into the room, pushing behind the swordsman.  Free, he then pointed the gun at the ex-Turk's head who was kneeling down and using zip ties to fasten Tseng's wrists to the bedframe.  "Who the hell are you?"

"I think that's obvious, but it's something we're going to have to talk about another time."  He looked around the ex-Turk, apparently apathetic towards the gun still pointed at him.  "Sephiroth, I left her on the roof outside the hallway window.  Get her away from here."

The younger Vincent jerked his head towards the swordsman at his name.  Catching the shift in attention, Sephiroth looked to the middle man and couldn't help but forget how to breath at the sudden change in his expression.  The intensity there...  His face paler than it normally was, the gunman opened his mouth, but seemed unable to find his voice.

"Sephiroth!  Go!  We'll meet at the cave."

The younger man tore his gaze away, nodded to his lover, and ran out of the room, escaping more than one thing.  He opened the window, grabbed the bundled up lump of a woman who'd been laid out a bit to the side and out of the range of the window, and took off into the air, suddenly convinced he should have left the other Vincent in the basement to rot.


	21. Urges

After the exit of tangled silver hair and the dull slam of the hallway window being closed, the dusty air was easier to breathe.  The gunman hadn't been expecting such easy, focused compliance with the way Sephiroth had been looking at his younger self...

Teeth gritted, he took a moment to glower at the younger man whose gun was only pointed half-way to his head at that point, the man's attention still on the doorway.  Then he grabbed the Turk's other hand and secured it too, barely seeing the motions that were more of an attack than he'd intended.  At least the Turk, one he respected, wasn't awake to experience it.

There were reasons he hadn't wanted to be around when Sephiroth freed his younger self from his self-imposed imprisonment.  And the biggest one was precisely this.

The task complete, he rose and strode to the doorway.  "We're leaving." He didn't even bother to pause for the words.  Either the man would follow him or he wouldn't.  But, with what he knew about himself and his early thoughts on Sephiroth and Hojo, the man would follow.  He reopened the window and waited only a few seconds before the younger man joined him on the roof.

What he also knew about his younger self was that the man couldn't control Chaos when he transformed, too inexperienced and fearful of the rage it produced.  The last thing Chaos needed was fear to feed it.

Red eyes looked over the edge of the high roof and then shifted to him, wary.  The grip on the gun never slackened.  "Where are we going?"

Unable to help himself, so many memories, both wonderful and horrible, flooding his mind, Vincent smiled.  "To see the woman we love."

The almost white-haired man shoved his bag at the other confusion-laced man who took it from him, not really seeming to realize he now held something.  The burn started in his chest, at the place the protomateria touched his flesh.  He ground his teeth at it, knowing the drowning pain that would follow.  The burn exploded in chest and limbs, and his back as appendages grew and flexed outwards from his body.  Worse than any pain, he felt the sigh of release from Chaos, a purr knotted in fury.  Through the haze, he saw his younger self, the genuine fear on his face. 

Some perversity told him to say, 'Yes, this is your true form. Pain and death,' perhaps because Chaos wanted to say it, perhaps because the beast could feel what lurked inside the other man and had the craving to draw it out to feed with him. 

And he felt Chaos smile a sneer, felt the arm that grabbed his younger self by the neck, the other arm disarming the man and throwing the gun off of the roof, before Chaos jerked him close and breathed in near his neck.  His grinning lips said, "That's a scent I adore."

It took every grasp at consciousness Vincent had just to force the beast to loosen the grip on the bleeding, bruising flesh.  He knew he had to calm down, to control his own thoughts and emotions.  After so many years of practice, calm should have come easily.  Instead, everything, every hope, love, fear, and rage that consumed him, coursed freely. 

Ever since he'd first laid eyes on Sephiroth weeks earlier, ever since he'd truly been given a chance to correct so many mistakes, his lack of control over himself had only been getting worse to the point he no longer trusted himself.  But at the moment he had little choice.  They couldn't risk ShinRa following them on foot, and he wasn't about to kill every one of them and risk their own defeats.  So he was taking the risk that he still had enough control over himself and his mind.  He prayed to whatever god was listening that it was the right choice.

The beast he had become quivered at his effort.  His eyes blinked and then refocused on the gunman he still hadn't let go of, who had enough sense to not fight and urge his aggressor on.

Calm.  Calm.  He needed to be calm.  He demanded the beast's eyes to close and, with a shudder, they did.  In his mind, he whispered, 'One day you'll be free of me, but not today.  Be still.  Breathe.'  The creature had no desire to submit, but the words weren't for Chaos.  They were for his own mind, to focus on simplicity, and not on things that drove his emotions off of the deep end, Sephiroth being one of them.

When he reopened his eyes, he felt Chaos' hatred for him, but he ignored it and forced the beast to grab the raven-haired man's waist instead of his neck, the gunman still facing him and instinctively pushing away with claws and fingernails that drew traces of blood to his tough, clothed skin.  They took off into the air with a tremendous pounding of his wings and flew south.

The sun had a firm hold on the sky by the time they reached the cave.  The moment he landed, he shoved the younger man away, who stumbled backwards a few steps on the rocky ground but managed to keep his footing, and brought Chaos into himself before he spotted Sephiroth, before the mere sight of him could drive his thoughts into uncontrolled spasms.  Grabbing his bag from his other self, ignoring the man's stare, he stalked into the cave, hoping Sephiroth would be inside and waiting for him.

The moment their eyes met, his heart lurched, and he knew without a doubt that this man owned him in every way he could, even if Sephiroth didn't realize he did.  The silver-haired man sat half-naked against the inner wall near the entrance.  Jenova slept off her drug-induced coma on the chilled floor just a bit away from him, her head lying on his bundled up coat.  His sword was propped up against the wall within reach.

Nearly silent footsteps walked up behind him and then past him, apparently not seeing Sephiroth.  Instead, the raven-haired man's eyes were glued to the woman encased in her mako tomb.  Vincent watched the middle man's fingers touch the glass-like structure, then his whole hand pressed.  The older man forced his gaze away and back down to Sephiroth who was watching the younger Vincent with an obvious fascination that further twisted his gut.

Instead of getting between them, he removed his rifle and propped it against the wall, turned around and pressed his back against the wall on the other side of Sephiroth's sword, letting his bag rest on the ground between them.  He dug through it and pulled out a plastic-wrapped sandwich he'd bought at the tavern in Nibelheim hours before on a shopping trip with a surprisingly docile Jenova.  Yes, the woman had eyed him whenever he wasn't looking at her, and when he was looking at her, but she'd played her part.  Thank goodness, as he now better knew the extent of her instability.

Sephiroth didn't pay him any mind until he'd thrown the offering onto his lap.  Then frowning aquamarine eyes flashed to his lap and then to him.  The slight smile offered back warmed him.  The swordsman huffed and muttered, "Don't want a repeat of last night?"

"No, not if I can help it," he murmured, and let his head roll back to hit the stone behind him, his eyes closing, wishing he'd kept walking to the reactor and had avoided everything that was surely now going to happen whether he liked it or not. 

Of course, he still could go, slip out when the other two were unaware, but first he needed to rest his mind.  As if that could happen with Sephiroth close enough to reach out and touch.  He blew out a huff of air and tried to at least be still.

Plastic rustled and he heard the distinct sound of chewing.  Absentmindedly, he wished he could replace the food that was in Sephiroth's best interest to eat, and could feel the man's lips and teeth on his skin.  When he felt himself harden though, he ground his teeth and reminded, well, tried to convince himself that he had enough power over his desire to keep his butt on the ground where it belonged.

When was he ever going to be able to convince his body that he was seventy-two years old, not twenty-seven anymore?

A few minutes later, his mind wandered, trying to doze off over the nearly nonexistent sleep he'd been getting since he'd stolen Sephiroth from his life.  Well, except for the few hours at the inn in Nibelheim when he'd taken Sephiroth for the second time.  Any thought of that particular time made blood pool at his groin as he was overtaken by the memories of suckling the younger man's hardness, spooning him from behind.

If the other man had had any idea how much he wanted him, every part of him, with a fervor that bordered on obsession, probably was obsession...  It was better that he didn't know, better that he kept distance now than force more hurt and resentment into him. 

Sephiroth had already informed him quite clearly earlier that morning that he'd taken their relationship too far, and he was in total agreement.  He never should have let it get as far as he did.  With all of his age, experience, and supposed wisdom, he should have known better and been able to control himself.  Should have and didn't.

Yanking him out of his heated, dark, but drifting thoughts, something pressed against his side.  His eyes flashed up and he saw Sephiroth sitting down close enough to be shoulder to shoulder, the man still naked from the torso up.  Their eyes met, Sephiroth studying him intently, before he sat completely back and Vincent looked forward and saw his younger self looking at them, almost blankly, but Vincent knew the gears were working in his head.  After all, his own would have been.  Sephiroth's head leaned on his shoulder, the top of it against his ear.

A near whisper, the younger man said, "You know, besides screwing you in the alleyway, if I'd known we'd be doing this right now, I swear I never would have come with you either."

"So you wouldn't have fucked me or come with me?"

Vincent could hear the smile when Sephiroth said, "No, not even for a moment...  And what are we doing?"

The future, it wasn't something he wanted to think about at the moment, not with Sephiroth against him.  "Honestly, I don't know.  I've fulfilled my objectives. Now..."

"Now we have to work on you."

The words ate at him.  He wished wholeheartedly that Sephiroth would simply accept the inevitable, as it would make the passing of time a bit easier as his body slowly weakened, a process he knew would only get faster and faster with time until his body could take no more.

"Sephiroth -"

"Don't say it.  I know what you're going to say.  I'm just not going to accept it.  If you can be sent back here, something that defies logic, then surely something can be done."

Why was the man fighting this so hard when Vincent himself had come to accept it even before he'd accepted the mission?  And, well, there -was- a replacement for him. 

Vincent opened his eyes again.  His double's body was still turned towards them but his head was looking back at Lucrecia.  He knew from personal experience that the man was a piece of work, but he was salvageable.  Surely, hopefully Sephiroth would come to realize that with time.  But if he didn't, the ex-Turk knew he couldn't force them to be together.  He could only hope that Sephiroth chose the best course for himself, and hope that whatever life his younger self ended up with, it was better than it could have been.

Looking at it that way, it made him feel old, too old, and like their father in some warped way.

He should have kept walking...

"Vincent?"  Concern coated the words.

The gunman didn’t respond, didn't trust himself to.

"I love you."

Heat flooded him.  He should have kept walking.  His eyes closed again to bite back emotions that tried to make him scream.  And then, after a moment, unable to help himself, he murmured, "I love you more than life itself."


	22. Realizing Reality

The morning drifted on to noon, finally bringing hints of warmth to the cave.  With the sound of rushing water near, the alien still knocked out on the floor, Sephiroth content against his side, and only occasional stares from the younger Vincent seated against Lucrecia's tomb, the whole of it was more than enough to induce sleep rolled up in Vincent's exhaustion.  The whole of it was beyond odd.

Everything should have been in chaos.  His mind should have been running laps.  His sanity should have been imploding and then exploding onto the world.  Instead... 

Was this that peace thing he'd heard so much about, something life had never deemed fit to offer him outside of choice parts of his childhood? 

The side of his mouth quirked up.  Maybe it was peace.  Maybe, for once, he was... happy.  His mind tried to convince him of the absurdity of such a notion, but for some reason his heart just laughed at the effort.  In the end, if he'd had to give it a name, he would have called it happiness.

And he'd achieved this glorious state right when he was about to die.  The wonders of irony.  But better on his deathbed than never, he supposed.

Clanking booted feet disturbed the tranquility as the raven-haired man stood and walked up to them with careful steps.  Vincent watched the inevitable advance through slitted lids.  Sephiroth lifted his head, but remained quiet.

The middle man pressed his lips together, his gaze switching back and forth between them.  "I was... promised some answers..."

Vincent blew out a huff and reclosed his eyes.  "What do you want to know?"

"The obvious."  The younger Vincent shook his head slightly.  "Who are you?"

"I'm you in about 20 years."

Days before, Sephiroth's reaction over such absurdity had nearly brought the rewriting of the future to a halt.  The younger ex-Turk's reaction, however, well, he took it well, considering, although he had the advantage of obvious proof in front of him along with hours of contemplation from across the room.

Seconds inched by.  The quietness made Vincent reopen his eyes.

When crimson eyes met crimson, the younger man asked, "You're...  I don't..."  Then he looked to Sephiroth, his face intense with scrutiny.  "I don't even know the year."

"You're fifty-one."  Raven brows furrowing, his double reached up and touched his own face with the barest gliding of his fingers, and Vincent smiled weakly.  "You don't look a day over twenty-seven, a... 'gift' you're going to become well acquainted with.  What Lucrecia did to you, it more or less stopped you from aging."

"But you're dying."  The younger man looked him over with a quick flash of his eyes.  "Aren't you?  I -will- die."

"Not for a long, long time if you don't do anything stupid.  Your lifespan will be considerably longer than mine."

"Why would...  Why?"

Why?  Such a basic question.  Vincent really didn't care why, had barely even considered it outside of the scientists' grilling's over his sanity and motivations for accepting a death sentence.  Nor did he care to tell 'himself' why.  Was he supposed to tell this man that he'd drastically shorted his own life just to have a brief amount of time with the young SOLDIER at his side, to save Sephiroth from himself and maybe redeem his own self in the process?  That he loved Sephiroth, a person that had been a madman in another life and could still become one?  Could this man really understand it all, even if he tried to explain?

"What have you done?"

Vincent gritted his teeth and tried to still his mind as he'd done so many times before, but failed to stop the wrath from bubbling up.  Shoving himself to stand upright, Vincent flexed a fist, wanting to strangle his other self to release all of the pent of rage and frustration for himself he'd been harboring for years and years.  The other man backed up a step. 

A low growl in his throat, Vincent said, "I've done what you should have done years ago."

And then he stalked from the cave before he did something he'd regret.  The last thing he wanted was another regret.  Outside, the sun beat down on him, trying to warm his icy flesh.  The wind washed through his hair, whistling through the heated rocks and grass.  He focused on everything, anything outside, barring his mind from what lurked in the cave.

Not helping his breathing settle in the least, Sephiroth skulked up to him, the younger man knowing firsthand the brutality that was inside the ex-Turk.  But then swordsman's hand crept just barely over his shoulder. "Vincent..."

"Talk to him for me.  I can't do it.  I didn't want...  I can't be around him."

Sephiroth dropped his hand but didn't move away.  The day grew quiet again, at least for a minute.  "Don't forget what you tried to do.  What he tried to do.  You did try to stop all of this from happening."

"Yes, I did.  When it was too late.  And then I spent years in a fucking box wallowing in my regret.  If we hadn't forced him out, he'd still be there."

"You know...  I told you to stop regretting everything.  And you...  You told me that I should forgive him so that he can move on.  But I think you need my forgiveness just as much as, if not more than he does.  What you did, your failures, everything, I forgive you for it."  He walked around the gunman and pressed his hands against Vincent's cheeks, forcing him to look at him.  "But if you don't stop this, I'm going to take it back."

"You'd take back forgiveness?"

"If you keep pissing me off, I will."

Vincent could see his lover was at least partially serious, but he could also see the pleading in his eyes.  It made him smile.  Leaning forward a bit, he let his forehead rest against Sephiroth's, breathing in his breaths, wishing they had years instead of hours or days.

"And besides, I want to talk to him as little as you do."

Frowning, the gunman pulled his head away and looked into cat-like aquamarine eyes.  "You don't..."

Sephiroth didn't even want to talk to the younger gunman?  Well, then again, their communication thus far had been at a bare minimum and under strenuous circumstances.  He supposed he couldn't expect sparks to fly at first glance, especially with himself still around.  But he'd expected a little more than complete indifference, especially after the looks they'd been giving one another.  But perhaps he'd misjudged the looks, well, at least Sephiroth's.  He didn't know whether to be pleased or distraught.

The gunman looked to the horizon at the dilemma.  To be jealous of one's self, was that even possible?  Apparently so.

"Vincent...  I care nothing for him and he's not you.  I mean, yes, you -are- technically the same person, but that's not you in there.  I don't care what he looks like."

White hair fluttered with a shake of his head.  "I'm not going to be around –" A hand slapped over his mouth.

"Okay, just stop.  Seriously.  That's-Just don't even say it.  Do you really think I'm just going to..."  Sephiroth suddenly yanked away from him, putting several steps of distance between them.  His bare chest heaved, nearly glowing in the sun.  "That's it, isn't it? That's been your plan all along!  Fuck me, say all of these ridiculous things to me."  He shot an arm towards the cave.  "And then leave me with him?!  As if he could ever be you!  My God.  I can't believe...  This...  This is just...  fucking ridiculous!"

The moment Vincent opened his mouth, to deny it, to beg for forgiveness, to recant, to blurt out anything his unglued mind could come up with, Sephiroth was up in the air, out of reach and away in a split second, shirtless and swordless.  Fleeing him and for good reasons.


	23. With or Without

At first, the gunman watched the point he'd last see his lover, confident in the idea that Sephiroth would come back, that everything couldn't end so abruptly and in this way. This wasn't how he'd pictured his relationship with Sephiroth ending. He would come back.

...At least for his sword.

A half an hour later, he was pacing the ground, red cape and long white hair following him. He did his best to ignore the man who watched him from the entrance of the cave. Every minute that passed though, he hated the other man all the more. Hated his accusing eyes, the hardness of his body that hadn't been there thirty minutes before.

Eventually, maddened by his continued presence, burning with hate, he wanted to shout at him, 'Go ahead and punish me!  Take your vengeance on me! Make right your sins! This is your chance!'

But the words never came out, never granted him the eternal peace that surely had to follow. Nor could he make the first move against his younger self.

_How did it all come to this?_

Well, it was a stupid question. He knew exactly how it'd come to this and it was his fault, just like every other part of his life. He hadn't been a child when he'd made so many wrong choices. He'd been a man, a Turk, a killer. Surely in some perverse way, even his father's death was his fault, although Lucrecia had deemed it fit to take that credit and push him away as much as he had pushed her away. Perhaps his father's death had merely been an excuse to do just that. And while he loved her, truly he did, perhaps she hated him that much and her sorry cries were merely her regret in getting herself into his life in the first place, getting near him, kissing him, her body hot, her eyes full of tears.

Vincent could still feel that kiss on his lips, in his heart. It was like it'd happened just minutes before. At that moment years before, he'd loved her. But had she ever really loved him? It had been the same moment he'd pushed her away with all of the strength he could muster, out of fear for both her soul and his own. He never should have pushed her away, and instead held her so close that they were one.

But then Sephiroth never would have been born.

But would it have been better that way?  And had he known everything that was going to happen... No, he hadn't known.  But nonetheless, how much had his decisions defunct the world as a whole?

_They should have sent me back to stop myself..._

Nearly hour into his disappearance, when Sephiroth appeared like a silver arrow in the sky, landing hard near the cave, Vincent's heart pounded, refusing then to even imagine a world without this stunning, ferocious man. The ex-SOLDIER blatantly ignored both Vincent's as he stalked past the younger ex-Turk and into the cave.

Vincent strode forward, the metal of his boots barely clanking the ground, and nearly ran into the swordsman when he appeared back around the corner, shouldering on his armor over hard muscles, his sword firm in his grasp. Seeing the clear intent in his eyes, Vincent grabbed his upper arm when he tried to move past him.

Finally, the younger man met his eyes, his glare unbreakable with rage. Sephiroth snarled, a quiet sound, "Let. Me. Go."

Vincent's heart hammered as it finally admitted that everything was about to change, whether he wanted it to or not. "What are you going to doing?"

"I'm done with this. I'm done with all of it." Sephiroth tried to rip his arm away, making Vincent's grasp harsher, but the swordsman didn't seem to feel it. Instead, unable to get free, the man grabbed the front of Vincent's shirt, the bluntness of it bruising the gunman's chest. He could tell Sephiroth wanted to do much more. "Let go, or I'm going to put my sword through your gut, something I should have done days ago."

"Sephiroth, don't do this," he blurted out, pleading as much with his voice as with his eyes. He was desperate to stop this new chain of events dead in its tracks. Surely the other man knew it.

And perhaps that was why the man, the war hero, the killer, sneered at him. "You're one to talk." Aquamarine eyes narrowed, and their heat pulsed between them. "Do you want to know what true pain is? Do you truly think your sad, sorry life was painful? I'll show you pain. I'll show you what you never stopped because you and your better half there, the pathetic sacks of shit you are, were dreaming the days away. Only..." A corner of his mouth twitched up with no trace of warmth. "I can't, because every single fucking cut and break healed without a scar, my family is dead, and everything I knew is destroyed. I have -nothing- left!" The hand at his shirt gripped tighter, the knuckles white, veins popping. "Now, whose fault is that? And don't say yours because you're not that fucking great."

The words left the ex-Turk numb. He let the other man go, who returned the favor with a solid shove to his chest. This time, unlike other times, he stumbled back, not having the strength in his heart, mind, or body to remain solid.

The stumble gave Sephiroth the slightest pause, his eyes narrowing again, but then he turned his head to Vincent's 'better half' standing just outside the cave. The words soaked in ill-humor, the silver-haired man murmured, "Don't let this man ruin your life."

And then the ex-SOLDIER was in the air, flying to the east, leaving Vincent with the two people he wanted to be with the least.

"Sephiroth!" he yelled uselessly into the warm afternoon air.

Eyes burned his back. The creature still slept inside, although that time was nearly up. Chaos rolled around in his broken soul, basking in the agony.

It was fitting, really. It wasn't what he'd wanted. Certainly not what he'd planned when he'd started all of this. But it was like it was meant to be. And unless time travel was discovered again, it -was- meant to be.

Minutes dribbled by, leaving his mind empty.  Finally, Vincent said to his younger self, who hadn't moved, "To answer your question: What I've done...  What was given to me was a chance to correct so many wrong things." He wrapped his arms around his chest in a hug he'd get from no one else. "I loved..."  He swallowed, unable to say it.  Instead, he said, "I loved Lucrecia too much. I loved my family too much. I even loved my own life too much. So much so that it clouded my judgment, so many times." He turned his head and looked at the younger man who in turn watched him carefully. And he smiled his defeat. "I tried. Truly, I did. But I failed anyway."

The raven-haired man began to shake his head. "I know what I've done and haven't done." The younger Vincent frowned at the words as if they confused him. He met his eyes again. "But I don't know what's going on, and I don't know you're talking about."

"I was sent back to stop Sephiroth from nearly destroying all life on the planet and to protect the planet from everyone else."

"Sephiroth...  He tries to destroy the world?" 

Vincent nodded.  "Yes.  And it wasn't realized for many years, but with his attempt, when he called Meteor and the planet was forced to protect itself and use up so much of itself, a chain reaction began, well, has already begun, really. It began when they built the mako reactors in the first place. Twenty years from now... " He looked over the lush land, the flowing water, the sweet air. "This world is nothing like it is right now. It's a wasteland, with far too few survivors. The air is barely breathable. All babies are still-births. Nothing grows. The life is gone. The planet is dead."

The younger man walked up behind him. "Were you able to stop it from happening?"

"I don't know. Only time will tell. I dismantled the reactors and, God willing, the black materia will never be called upon. But it might not be enough."

The other man was silent behind him for a minute before he said, "And Sephiroth, the way he left just now..."

Vincent turned and met youthful eyes he remembered all too well. The man before him may have been in his fifties, but his life had stopped at twenty-seven. Vincent looked away, guilt dragging his gaze to the ground. "I made him love me. I... I’m not a completely rational man."

"We should go after him. I... You should. He loves you. The way he was looking at you..."

The white-haired man blinked at his younger self. The man's eyes were a mirror of his own, the love, desire, pain, desperation. It was a mirror skewed with time and experiences, yes, but still similar enough to understand his younger self's thoughts and desires. He shook his head. "I want to, but I'm dying. You... you were my replacement."

The younger man frowned at him and then seemed to realize the implications. "And he figured it out. That's why he left like that, isn't it? My God, I never wise up, do I?"

Vincent huffed a bit of laughter, despite himself, and smiled weakly. "No, unfortunately not."

The raven-haired man still frowned, but a smirk had come through it, as he walked around him and looked to the east. At his age, his only thoughts had been of Lucrecia, Hojo, and Sephiroth, the three people that his world revolved around. He imagined that this man's were quite the same, and that was proven when the younger man said, "We should go after him. And make sure you've accomplished what you set out to do. Where will he go?"

"Where else could he? He'd head right back to Midgar. Outside of the war, it's the only life he's known since he was very young."

The younger ex-Turk continued to gaze out for a while, perhaps contemplating everything, before he asked, "And her? Who is she?"

"Jenova."

The man turned around abruptly. "Jenova? The specimen Hojo used... But she's... human?"

"No, she isn't. I don't know what she is. But she is a telepath and can put thoughts into your head. She's dangerous, even if she seems innocent. Don't trust her."

The raven-haired man nodded once and then suddenly craned his head, looking beyond him and into the cave, his eyes narrowed. Vincent followed the gaze and saw Jenova. The woman had her hands pressed so close to Lucrecia's face that it made him involuntarily cringe with panic over what she might do. He started forward, but the other man grabbed his arm just as suddenly, stopping him.

"What is she doing," the younger man whispered, as Jenova's cheek pressed against the crystalized mako.

"I don't know."

"You said she's a telepath." The man let him go and took a step forward himself. "Do you think she can hear her?"

The notion was astonishing and barely conceivable to his distraught mind. He wanted to save Lucrecia from this animalistic woman, whether or not the intentions were good. Lucrecia had suffered more than enough at the hands of Hojo and, indirectly, Jenova. Everything in him screamed to save her now. The younger Vincent couldn't possibly understand the full implications of what they were seeing, and that was probably why the younger man urged him to stay back.

But what if Jenova -could- communicate with her?  What if they could, in turn, communicate with Lucrecia?

The idea wrenched his gut until he felt like he was going to vomit although there was nothing in his stomach. It was one thing for her to be more or less comatose. It was quite another to hear her remorseful, pained, beautiful voice again, even if it came from the mouth of another.

But if that was the case, he could get answers from her.  But what if they were answers he didn't truly want to know?

What if she'd know the risks she'd taken putting Chaos into him? Would she have truly done it, saved his life in such a manner, if it could have brought about the destruction of the entire planet? She couldn't have been that desperate to save his life. Right?

No, if what Jenova was saying was true, Lucrecia couldn't have known it.

Either way though, whatever the answers, he would gladly take her word over Jenova's, although he'd apparently have to go through Jenova to get those answers.

The younger man perhaps felt similar trepidations as his feet stayed glued to the spot.  However, when the alien sunk to the floor, sobbing, he rushed forward, kneeling down, whispering words Vincent couldn't hear from that distance. He couldn't move.

When her head lifted and he touched her face, she started screaming.  The older man stalked forward, while the younger one bolted upright and stepped back.

And he'd forgot to tell him that: "She can sense Chaos.  It terrifies her."

"You tell me that now?!"

"It slipped my mind."

"Really?" he called out over the screams, glaring at the white-haired man and backing away another step.  "And what else has slipped your mind?"

Vincent stopped a short distance from them.  What else?

_That you might very well be the destroyer of a planet when you die._

He couldn't bring himself to say it, even though that should have been the first thing he'd said to him.  It was bad enough that he himself was cursed with the prospect.  Perhaps he couldn't say it because he still didn't necessarily believe it himself.  He just couldn't believe Lucrecia would have done it if it was even a possibility.  And saying it out loud made it seem like he'd accepted it as truth.  But he'd been perfectly willing to dive into the reactor because there was always the chance he could be wrong, and he wouldn’t risk it considering his short lifespan.

In the end, he didn't want to have the younger man bear the questionable burden too. 

...But now that Sephiroth had left them, he knew should tell him, since no one else was going to.

The raven-haired man's attention was on Jenova.  Vincent opened his mouth, but found he just couldn't say it.  If Jenova was wrong...

"Is she going to stop?"

"Just leave her.  She'll wear out eventually."

The tiring took a good couple of minutes of ear piercing screams, her fingernails digging dripping gashes into her arms as she hugged herself.  It was so tempting to just jab her again with another tranquilizer, but he wanted answers first and hopefully fast.

The screams turned back into sobs and then moaning hums as she swayed, her palms on the ground, her legs overlapped to one side, her silver hair covering her clenched face.  It was a time when no one would have doubted her frail humanity.

The younger man left her to herself for another minute before he knelt back down, keeping the distance, and murmured, "Jenova?"

She lifted her gaze and then frowned at him.  Her head turned, searching, and then she found what she was looking for in the other Vincent.  She turned a terrified look between the two of them, and then tears dripped from her eyes. Whether she was wrong or not, Vincent believed that she believed herself.

Vincent pressed his lips together, wishing for so many reasons that he didn't have to talk to her, and then said, "Jenova, how do you know Chaos?"

Her already pale skin grew paler and he thought for sure she was going to lose it again.  Instead, she whispered, "It... It came to our planet.  It killed so many."  More tears streamed down her face, but she didn't seem to notice them, her eyes glazed over.  "It...  It..."

"So it wasn't of your planet?"

"No...  And then...  And then..."  Eyes wide, she gripped her chest, pulling at the shirt.  Traces of blood colored the cloth.  "And my daughter...  I screamed.  I begged.  I couldn't stop it.  And then...  I killed her.  And...  And...  I laughed."

"You took Chaos into yourself?  How?"

"I don't know.  I don't know.  But I couldn't get it out.  It..." She finally refocused wide eyes on him.  "It wanted me dead, everything dead.  It wants you dead.  It wants everything dead."

That was more than enough to satisfy him.  The woman clearly wasn't a scientist or anyone else who could help him.  Whatever she believed, she was clearly going on her own personal experiences and nothing more.

The gunman stalked away from the woman, lost in her words, the few they had been.  Swooping down, he grabbed his rifle and bag and stalked from the room, saying, "Stay here, I'll be back once I find Sephiroth."

The other man was up and running to him.  "You're not going to ask her about Lucrecia?" When the man didn't stop, he added, "I'm coming with you."

"You're staying with her."

"No, I'm coming with you."

"You can't even control what's inside of you.  You'd be a burden more than anything else."

"I'm coming with or without your consent."

Vincent stopped completely, glaring eye to eye with himself.  When he realized what he was doing with 'himself', he looked away, teeth grinding.  He knew there were ways to push compliance, but did he really want to do that to his younger self?  A moment later, he turned his glare back towards Jenova, exasperated.  "Jenova, stay here. Wait for Sephiroth here."

Well, a similar demand had apparently gotten her to stay put one time.  He hoped it'd work again.  He wasn't about to take her with them.

Time for a crash course, he supposed, something he never got when he'd first gone back out into the world.  Strapping his rifle to his back and reaching in his bag to grab another gun, thrusting it to the younger man, which in turn was thrust into the back of his pants, Vincent said, "When Chaos comes out, don't be afraid of him.  He can do nothing to you.  Your natural instinct won't allow it.  He can only hurt others.  The protomateria allows you to control him.  It's something Jenova obviously didn't have.  When he's out, control him.  Do you understand?"

"Yes.  But it can't be that easy."

"It's easy if you feel nothing.  It's your emotions that drive his hunger.  Don't feel anything and you'll be fine."

The younger man huffed. "Don't feel anything.  Right now, about the only thing I'm doing is 'feeling'."

Vincent smiled at him, the words conjuring up some sympathy. "I know.  Just think about killing.  The vision of how you're going to do it, the patience it takes to wait for the moment, the stillness of your body before the attack, the need to get it right the first time.  It takes calm to kill the first time.  Or luck.  But we don't have time to work with luck."

The raven-haired man nodded.  His face had traces of fear, but it could be worked with.

"Release him then."

The ex-Turk nodded again, backed away a few steps, closed his eyes. Instantly Vincent could see the pain, the fight, the push for dominance, as the younger man's body rippled, grew, and extended to the sky.  Chaos let out a howl at the release, something it hadn't experienced for decades.

"Calm."  Crimson eyes instantly fixed on him, but he refused to show fear.  Chaos was something he knew, was inside of himself, and he had to believe that the other man wanted to save Sephiroth and everything else as much as he did. "Be still."

The whole of beast tremored.  The moment it took a step towards him, he transformed as well, much faster with the aid of experience.  His Chaos' pleasure at his twin caressed him, and he smiled.  "Come for the feast."

And then he took off into the air, his younger self close behind.


	24. Rescue Mission

The screams, explosions, and gunshots, slipped over the confining walls of Midgar and gave life to the dead landscape surrounding it.  The city was without power and had been so for two days.  And by then, with every single reactor down, the ShinRa Company had probably run out of excuses that could keep the people calm. 

In the dying light, through Chaos' eyes, Vincent could see fires blazing and lighting up darkened sky, something the reactors used to do.  Besides the fires, there was no other light, except for the occasional flicker of something electronic that would surely lose its battery strength soon or perhaps was attached to a generator which would run out of fuel.

He swooped into the city where there was no light, landing on an upper plate at a place that had once been a shopping district.  The place was barren.  Glass from broken widows laid everywhere.  He couldn't walk without stepping on a shard.  Small fired burned in some of the buildings and showed that they were quite empty of their expensive merchandise. 

Metallic feet landed beside him with a thud.  Chaos flapped its wings, purring, then fluttering as a battle waged on in the younger man.  Vincent watched as the man slowly regained his natural form, smiled at him, and then kept walking. 

At his side, the younger Vincent said, "They're destroying everything."

"There are too many people and they're desperate.  What can ShinRa really do for them?"  He looked around at the destruction, both on that plate and on others.  "I shouldn't have left...  They're going to destroy themselves with or without Sephiroth's help.  I...  I'd had a little more hope in humanity than this.  God, I was fucking stupid."

Coming to terms with the dire situation, he quickened his steps until he was full out running along the plate and to its other end.  His double was right behind him. The place was empty until they were near ShinRa Headquarters. 

For city blocks, sweaty, unkempt people screamed out their frustrations and fears, jammed together in a clot of overall outrage.  There was no getting past them.  Instead of trying to force his way through, he rushed through an alleyway, cutting his way to the edge of the plate.  Once there, the way was reasonably clearer.  There were stragglers, but he could dodge them easily enough.

"Where are we going?"

"We're looking for someone who can give us information.  We'll grab someone in a uniform and work from there."

Minutes later, they'd almost reached the far end of the plate and encountered a barricade with armed troops lined up as far as they could see.  Torches offered light a short distance behind them.

"One of them?"

"Yeah."  Vincent didn't stop running until he was almost on top of them.

One of them yelled out, "Halt!  We've been given authorization to shoot any trespassers!"

That was the one he grabbed, instantly transforming, diving below the barricade and into the chest of the high-ranking trooper, carrying him away into the now dark sky.  The man screamed and the troopers below didn't dare shoot, probably too afraid of hitting their superior or merely plunging him to his death.  The younger Vincent transformed as well, taking a side route, instead of risking getting shot at.  When they met up, Vincent already had the man on a balcony and against the wall halfway up the tower.

"P-please!  We're just following orders!"

The beast sneered at the man, relishing in his fear, grabbing the trooper's gun and throwing it over, before the gunman shoved Chaos back down inside of himself.  Afterwards, looking a bit more human, the other man looked no less scared.  "I just need to ask you a few questions, and then you can find your way back down."  His outward calmness seemed to have some effect and the trooper nodded enthusiastically.  "Has Sephiroth returned?"

"Ah, yes. I-I heard he's on an assignment in the slums.  But you don't want to go down there.  Martial law is in effect everywhere, not that people are listening.  But down there, they're tearing each other apart.  It's hardly better up here."  The man swallowed at Vincent's narrowing eyes.

"They won't let people leave the city?"

"No, they've closed off all the exit points."

No wonder why millions of people were going crazy.  By then, after two days of no electricity, which meant no refrigeration and sanitation, and perhaps not even water at all, they were probably swimming in their own sweaty filth.  He could only justify it by thinking the Shinra household was easing it up in their tower, not truly realizing how bad it was and was going to get.  People were going to die at this rate.  A lot of them.

"Thank you."  He punched through the glass doorway next to the man, shattering it with his claw, and threw him inside, the man landing flat on his backside.  Then he transformed again and swept down, vanishing under a plate and depositing his bag on the ledge of a support pillar.

The air was thick, thicker than usual, almost suffocating.  The darkness hid the crimes being committed, but amplified their horrific sounds.  His eyes could barely make out much of anything, and he knew he'd have to be looking within shouting or perhaps talking distance to get a good visual.

Then he stopped in midflight, something so obvious suddenly occurring to him.  "Aeris."

What kind of hell had he left her in?  All thoughts of Sephiroth were defeated in the face of saving the girl, an ancient, the last of her kind, someone who needed protection.  She was priceless, and he wasn't going to let her die again, especially in such a meaningless way. 

Although, perhaps, she'd already been rescued by her watchers, the Turks, but he needed to be sure.

Changing his course, he set off to the waterfall that lined the back of her house.  There, the air was a bit cleaner as it was out of the way and had direct access to streams of light through the cracks between the plates above.  The smell of flowers pushed up into his face as he landed. 

Another thud landed at his side.  "What are we doing here?"

"Rescuing someone important.  You haven't met her but you would have.  Years from now, she sacrifices herself to save the world.  From Sephiroth."  He started forward, but then couldn't help a glance back at his younger self who hadn't complained, shown distress, and had controlled himself in ways that put the older man to shame. 

The younger man had a determination in his eyes, and now, in watching him, Vincent remembered that same determination when Cloud had first woken him up, well, after a bit of persuasion.  He'd forgotten about it, coming to think of himself as having only been weak and pathetic.  The conflict of truth and fiction was confusing.  Was he weak or wasn't he?  Maybe...  Maybe he was somewhere in between and, back then, had just needed a solid reason to draw his determination out after so much defeat, that reason being Hojo.

He stalled at the name, realizing he'd never told the raven-haired man the truth about it.  The younger one looked to him, questioning.  "Hojo is dead."

The raven-haired man stopped everything for a moment before he said, "What?"

"Sephiroth killed him when he found out the truth, that Hojo was his father.  I saw no reason to stop him, although I would have liked the pleasure myself.  I lied to you about it, but at the time, we needed to get you out of the basement and were on a time limit."

The man looked away from him, his face hard, but eventually he drew in a shuddering breath.  "I wish I'd been there to see it."

Vincent smiled icily.  "You were, in some weird way."

"Did he suffer?"

"Yes."

"Good."

The gunman nodded to 'himself' and then started forward again.  Now he only had one more truth to reveal which might not have actually been the truth.

"You love him, don't you?  Sephiroth."

The words and wanting tone stopped him.  God, he was so needy, at any time.  He pressed his lips together, not sure if he should admit it so blatantly, as the words seemed out of place with this man, as odd as it was.  Perhaps he didn't want to influence the younger man unduly when, overall, it'd gone over so poorly with Sephiroth with himself.  Perhaps he, well, he didn't want to break his own heart.  Finally, he admitted, "As much as you do and so much more."

"You've..."

The white-haired man turned and frowned at the younger man's interest and the slight color that came to his pale skin as his head turned away.  He knew he shouldn't have said it, that he was solidifying a dream of the future that probably wouldn't be, but couldn't help himself, murmuring, "If I could, if he'd let me, I'd still be in him."

Younger crimson eyes looked to him, so many emotions fluttering over his face.  Vincent knew then that the seed, which had been planted over two decades before, had definitely sprouted, admittedly sooner than his own had, but surely it would have anyway.  He regretted it, but couldn't help but hope at the same time.

Changing the subject before he got lost in it, he said, "Let's finish this and find him."

The younger ex-Turk nodded.  They continued on to the house.  He rapped twice with his claw. 

Footsteps padded to the door which opened, while a distant woman called out, "Aeris, don't open that door!"

The teenager turned her head, answering back, "It's all right, mom.  It's the man from the other day and..."  She'd turned her head to look back and really looked.  For the first time since he'd known her, the girl looked genuinely shocked.  "...And his friend."  Much more quietly, looking between them as a smile edged onto her face, she said, "Let's go outside and talk."

That was probably a good idea.  He turned back around and stopped by the bottom of the stairs.  The girl led them to the far end of the garden near Cloud's grave.  Vincent found his eyes drawn to it and the many memories it held, ones his younger self would never know beyond secondhand knowledge.

When she stopped, she turned around and looked them both in the eye again, her eyes full of wonder, her jaw slightly dropped.  "You're the same person.  I thought..."

Vincent smiled, unable to help it.  Out of anyone in the world, he knew she was the one who'd understand and accept everything the most.  And unfortunately, she was still the last person he wanted to drag into all of it.  "Would you believe I'm from the future?"

The girl tilted her head, putting her hands behind her back, her smile growing.  "Maybe?"

His own matched before it dropped from his face, remembering why he'd come back to her when he'd swore to himself he wouldn't.  "I want to get you out of the city.  You and your mother aren't safe here."

Her smile dropped away as well.  "I...  I can't...  I'm waiting here for someone.  But my mom, if you could make sure she's safe?"

"Who are you waiting for?"

Aeris looked away, to Cloud's grave.  Vincent followed her gaze and wasn't sure he wanted to understand the implications.  Perhaps he was just reading too much into it, but then her small smile returned.  "I'm waiting for a friend."

"Aeris..."  Believing the obvious, but not wanting to believe, he also knew he had to move this along, so he murmured against his better judgment, "Would you like me to take you to him?" 

Well, then again, what would Aeris knowing Cloud really hurt?

Large eyes looked up at his face as her cheeks colored.  "You know where he is?"

"Yes, he's living in Nibelheim.  But I have things I need to do first, and I'd prefer knowing you're safe."

The girl opened her mouth to answer but then turned her eyes to the distance.  The gunman followed the gaze again and his heart almost stopped beating.  Sephiroth strode into the yard, his movement full of purpose.  The young SOLDIER hadn't yet seen them though, his fast pace moving towards the house with a group of over a dozen troopers behind him.

"It's your friend," the teenager said quietly, probably instinctively aware that something was about to happen whether or not she wanted it to.  She wouldn't be able to smile herself out of it.

The moment her whole body turned, Sephiroth's gaze captured the movement and he turned his head towards them.  The man stopped abruptly, although his face remained hard.  Then he barked something at the troops and started forward again, striding directly to them, although he had to weave himself through the garden.

Aquamarine eyes only saw him, revealing nothing, until the man was within speaking distance, and then he turned his full attention to the girl.  "Aeris Gainsborough, I've come to take you and your mother to a safe place.  Tseng has requested it, and I volunteered to make sure it happens.  Come with me, please."

Surrounded by a group of tall combat-trained men each wanting things done their own way, she looked between them, her mouth slightly open, working at words.  Finally, her eyes settled on Sephiroth and she nodded.  "I'll go with you.  But when this is over, Vincent has promised to take me to see a friend in Nibelheim, and I would like to go with him."

Sephiroth immediately shot him an angry look, so icy it deadened him.  "Be careful what you wish for, Aeris."

"Sir," she began calmly, her face warm and soft.  Sephiroth's eyes flickered over her face, searching.  "I would never turn my back on a friend, no matter how he came to be my friend."

The swordsman darted his gaze between all of them, all of their eyes on him, waiting for his response.  Probably feeling the pressure, he twirled around, his brushed mane trailing behind him, and said over his shoulder, "Come.  We need to get you to safety.  Please get your mother," before storming back to the waiting troops.

Vincent and the younger man were each in turn a step behind him.  Out of Aeris' hearing, the girl not tall enough to keep up with the much taller men without running, Vincent growled, "It's not safe to bring her into the city.  I can take her much more quickly."

"I'm under orders to get her to ShinRa Headquarters.  I have no intention of letting harm come to her.  But right now, it's better not to draw unwanted attention.  And flying would do that."

"Just let me take her."

Sephiroth stopped abruptly, and Vincent almost ran into him.  The SOLDIER turned back around, grabbed Vincent by the front of his shirt, probably to ensure his complete attention and to release some rage without resorting to full-out violence, and hissed, "There is -no- way in hell I'm letting you do any more damage.  This place is falling apart.  The stupidest thing I ever did was leave with you, and that is -not- happening with her."

"You may be right...  But at least tell your handlers to let these people leave the city.  They're going to die here."

"And you think they'd do better out in the wilderness?" 

"There are other towns and cities out there that have done fine without ShinRa's reactors."

The future general shook his head, smirking.  "And they'll be able to take millions of refugees?"

"Sephiroth...  If these people truly wanted to, they could fix this in a matter of days.  People have survived worse for weeks, years.  This isn't the end of civilization."

Sephiroth's jaw tightened as his hand tightened his grip.  "That's easy for you to say."  When Vincent only stared at him, out of argument and now merely hoping the other man reason everything out, silver locks fluttered.  Aeris, who'd stopped near them, edged around them and ran inside her house.  Sephiroth watched after her and then glowered back at the ex-Turk.  "God, you have no idea how much I want to kill you right now.  Did you and your future geniuses even consider what your actions would bring when they sent you here?"

"Help them then, if that's what you want to do.  Stop trying to contain the situation, and deal with it.  But know this is nothing compared to what could have happened."

"And how do you know that?  What do you really know?  You have no idea what's going to happen any more than I do or anyone else!"  The man finally shoved him away, disgust evident in the hold of his mouth and brows, and stormed back to his waiting troops.

"You're right, I don't," Vincent admitted after him, although the words did nothing to slow down the younger man.


	25. The Wrath of Agony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic violence and murders/deaths.

Within minutes, the girl exited with an older woman, holding hands, their other hands holding a small bag each. The woman looked terrified to be leaving the sanctity of her home. The girl looked determined to see the night through to its proper end.     

Sephiroth nodded to both of them. "We're heading to the upper plate using the maintenance stairway since the train isn't operational. We'll be moving fast. Try to keep up. We can slow down once we're inside the restricted area."  After a nod from Aeris, the man glared at the two ex-Turks but then turned around, heading back into the slums, apparently having no desire to waste time on trying to stop them from following.

And the last thing Vincent was going to do was not follow. At the moment, these were the two most important people in the world and he'd do everything in his power to make sure they were safe.

The group of twenty-three people marched at a quick pace, the civilian women in the middle. In the darkness, broken by sparse fires, it was difficult to see much of anything, except for real and illusionary shadowy monsters lurking in the dark. Vincent watched anything and everything he could, his eyes constantly scanning the heaps of junk and dilapidated buildings. When he'd once lived in the city, he hadn't been able to imagine it getting any worse, the cesspool that it was.  He'd been wrong. So wrong. No human should have been forced to live in such a way. Never mind the last two days. What the people of the slums lived through was the result of decades of neglect and turned heads.

Eventually, the buildings were left behind. Only heaps remained of junked appliances and building parts and of tossed out garbage with smells that burned his nose and eyes. Others were feeling it too, their hands over their faces.

As they marched on, the tower they were heading to grew and loomed over them as much as the plate above them did. The closer they got, the more noticeable the buzzing of hundreds of voices became. When they turned the corner, the source of the voices became obvious.

Too many people surrounded the fence, shaking it, shouting, screaming, crying, demanding that the armed troopers on the other side let them in. The mob's mass was impenetrable.

At the back of the group, the instant Vincent saw what was ahead of them, he tried to force his way forward, but the troopers wouldn't let him through.

"Stay back," one of them shouted at him to be heard over the ruckus.

The group of soldiers flowed to the side, hoping to go around the people instead of trying to go through the middle, which would have only put all of them at more risk. They were just starting to leave the tail end when people started to notice them.

Vincent walked, barely breathing, knowing this could all fall apart so quickly. He just had to hope there was enough thought left in the people of the slums to not attack without provocation.  Although, really, provocation was all they'd been experiencing for the last two days. And group mentality rarely used common sense or morality.

As he walked by them, the overwhelming noise from the crowd dimmed, as more and more people turned their heads.  Eventually, he could pick out individual voices.

"It's the SOLDIER, Sephiroth."

"Can he help us?"

"What are they doing here?"

"Please help us!"

"My sister's a SOLDIER. She said he's the one who did this."

"What do you mean he did this?"

"She said he's the one who took out the reactors."

"Why would he do that?"

"They said it was terrorists."

"I heard the same thing! Sephiroth did it."

"What do you think ShinRa's going to say? Some terrorist did it or one of their own?"

"But he's a war hero. He stopped Watai's army from attacking us."

As the crowd continued on in their hushed voices, a rage began to fill them as the words drifted through them, their desperation converging on the easier target.  Quickly, the advancement of the whole team stopped as the crowd blocked them off.

Vincent strained to look over the soldiers, trying to find Sephiroth, as the younger ex-Turk at his side hissed, "This isn't going to last.  They're going to tear us apart if we don't get out of here."

Finally, the gunman spotted silver hair, his heart ramming in his chest, his body damp with the stress. The moment he caught sight of him, Vincent turned his head to look behind them, hoping to go back the way they'd come, but the crowd had already formed a thick wall behind them. Even if the three of them could fly out of there, the rest of the troops would take the wrath left behind.

Finally, someone shouted out, fear and confusion evident, "Sephiroth, did you do this?  They're saying -"

"Of course he did it!  And ShinRa would have us die down here for it!"

"Look at them!  They're just trying to save themselves!"

"Sephiroth, please, help us!"

"He's the one who did this!  He's not going to help us!"

The individual shouts quickly became a tangled mixed of howls and cries. Vincent shoved, forcing his way past the immobilized troopers. They were terrified. He could see it in their faces. But he didn't have time to draw out their strength, nor did they seem to have the capability to defend themselves, as they huddled back. After all, these people were probably their families, friends, and neighbors.

Just when he'd passed the two women in the middle, he turned to the ex-Turk behind him and grabbed his younger self by the shoulder, growling near his ear.  "Get Aeris and her mother out of here.  NOW!"

The gunman shoved him away and continued to shove himself through the knot of troopers. Vincent heard the pounding flaps of wings and a woman scream, as well as other people. He ignored it, in favor pushing through a couple more layers of bodies with a couple more left before he reached Sephiroth.

A dull thud pounded the air. The majority crowd went silent in one moment to the next. Vincent came to a standstill, unbelieving. Between the troopers, he saw Sephiroth stagger, his hand holding redness that leaked from the side of his head, spilling over his hair.

"SEPHIROTH!" the gunman yelled with such ferocity that his voice went hoarse.

Crowd seemed to take it as a hint, as a warcry. A brick pierced the air, slamming the SOLDIER in the neck and chin. He went down in heap, gagging, unable to breathe. The crowd was on top of him in the next heartbeat, nails, fists, grabbing and punching anything they could reach. The troopers staggered backwards from the mob before it took them down too.

The retreat got Vincent through the remaining bodies and he grabbed at arms, legs, shirts anything he could, and yanked them so hard that the people screeched their pain, tumbling back against the hard ground.

Blood, so much of it, wafted his nose. His fingernails tore. His claw drew more blood. He seemed to be making absolutely no leeway when he saw a limp gloved hand jerking not of its own accord.

"GET OFF OF HIM, YOU FUCKING ANIMALS!" No one seemed to hear him over the clamor. 

And then, for a split second, he saw Sephiroth's face, surrounded by blood soaked hair. It looked like death. Blood and gashes covered it. It was almost unrecognizable. If he hadn't known who it was, it would have been. It was death.

Hands grabbed at his arms, legs, and hair.  His legs staggered backwards. His mind went blank, unable to comprehend what couldn't be. In the next heartbeat, everything stopped, his breath, his spasming muscles, even his heart. The grating, hoarse scream he let out, it didn't even feel like it'd come from his burning throat. Nor did he feel the growths and wings that sprung from his body. He felt nothing but the blackened rage consuming him.

He was rage. He was death.

The next howlish cry he let out, released onto the world, exploded into light. Light so pure, beautiful, and brilliant that it had to be death. Death for everyone and everything. Just like Chaos had always wanted. Just like he wanted. Just like it should have been from the start when this rage had been put inside of him.  Rage that he'd fought for forty-five years, restrained with every beat of his heart, driving himself more and more insane every minute of every day with no release.

When the light faded. The last thing he saw was metal circles right in front of his eyes. The last thing he heard was a blast. The last things he smelled and tasted were ash, blood, and gunpowder mixed together. The last thing he felt was a split second of skull-crushing pain, as his head jarred backwards. The last thing he thought was how fucking good it felt.

And then he heard a voice, without his ears, in his mind, soft, smiling, and so familiar. It said, "I waited for you."

Then darkness. Darkness cradled him in peace. Real peace with the loss of his regretting, resourceful, furious, numb, hateful, passionate, sarcastic, chaotic, lustful, loving, murderous mind.


	26. To Save a Life

Calling Chaos into himself, his gun lowering, Vincent Valentine watched the bloody body land hard on the ground with an explosion of dust, ash, and bits of charred remains, seeing the beginnings of the older man's body returning to humanity, before turning away.  Seeing himself dead and, for that matter, being the one who'd done the deed... 

He looked away because he didn't want it to be real.  Because he wanted to keep feeling nothing but the shock.

His eyes drawn to the color of torn flesh, instead, he looked at another body, the one he'd protected with his large wings when he'd come back and seen the insanity on his double's face, distorting it like a horrific mask, as if Chaos hadn't already made the man horrific enough.  The creature's booming cry had drawn everyone's attention, in fact, making them stop their violent behavior and stare, uncomprehending of what was about to come. 

His first thought only of protecting Sephiroth, he'd barely had the time to land between the standing, bloody bodies around Sephiroth before the pulse of power had lit the darkness, eating through the softness of everything and everyone nearby, and making the pillars and plate above grind out a moan.  Hundreds, if not thousands or more, dead in a moment.  He had no idea how far the pulse had extended.

He should have shot him first.  

But he hadn't thought the older Vincent would do what he'd done, had no idea it was in their capability.  He'd expected screams from biting and tearing of flesh, bodies tossed through the air, and had sought only to remove Sephiroth's lifeless, mangled body out of reach, on the off chance there was a shred of life left in him.  When he'd felt the sudden draw of power that made his own Chaos' essence sing with delight, he'd done the only thing he could in that moment:  He'd attempted to shield Sephiroth from it.

Trying not to think about the broken feel of him, the wetness, the stench of bodily fluids, he carefully pushed his arms under Sephiroth and lifted the considerable weight of the man.  The man's head lulled and limbs hung, showing no life.  The sight clenched his gut and teeth, before he darted his gaze away, transformed, relishing in a different, distracting kind of pain, and then flew to the upper plate when he'd left Aeris and her mother.  They were huddled together, sitting against a building, almost unseen in the dark. 

The gunman laid the decrepit man near them, and Aeris immediately crawled forward, laying a hand on his head, not seeming to care about the blood now marring her light skin.  She closed her eyes, breathed a deep breath and then darted a look back up at him, tears dripping from her eyes.  "He's alive.  Barely.  We should get him to a hospital."

The words burst hope from his heart, but he said, "They can't save him.  The city doesn't have power.  Even on the off chance they aren't swamped right now, there'd be no life-support...  Wait here."

He flew back down, hauled up Vincent's dead body, and removed the rifle from his back, letting him drop back down.  The whole of touching him was disturbing and made him want to wash himself for hours.  After he'd grabbed Masamune as well, once he reached the upper plate, he shoved Chaos down, knelt down on his knees, and took a couple of minutes to run his hands over the whole of the broken body, straightening bones and realigning joints, glad the man wasn't awake to feel it.  Satisfied, immediately he called to the green materia embedded in the hilt of the rifle. 

The force of his call flooded him and heaved his energy into the more or less dead man.  At first he tried to grit his teeth and bear it, but quickly gasped and moaned.  Sweat coated his body.  A headache threatened to make his head explode.  All as the two of them came close to more or less switching places. 

Hands grabbed his shirt, shaking him.  He barely felt them.  He barely heard her voice when she wailed, "Stop!  You're killing yourself!  You can stop!" 

Hands tried to yank the rifle away from him, and then with one solid yank, finally did, his body already greatly weakened.  She flung to the ground where her limbs sprawled out, the rifle at her belly as her hands caught her.  He tried to look down, to see if Sephiroth lived, but dizziness overwhelmed him and dragged him to darkness.

Crimson eyes blinking, when he awoke, cold and aching, he couldn’t understand where he was.  Fingers caressed his cheek.  He looked up at a face.  Aeris.  The touch burned, distracting him from something.  He had something he had to do.  But couldn't remember what it was.  He tried to stop the distracting touches, but had no strength to bring his hand up.  He tried to lift his head up instead, but resorted to merely looking around with his eyes.  They appeared to be on a service road.  And then he saw a booted foot near his face and knew it.  His body jolted and then told him to calm the hell down with a mind numbing pain.

"It's okay.  You're okay.  Just rest.  He's okay," the girl murmured, stroking his hair, trying to comfort him.

It was more the pain than her softness that forced him to give up, at least for the moment.

Minutes slugged along until he knew his mind was going to drive him crazier than the pain.  Within a half an hour, he could finally push himself upright without feeling like his head was about to roll off his neck.  Crimson eyes looked over the other man in the darkness.  It was the most remarkable thing in the world to see Sephiroth's chest moving, but he wasn't awake.

Then he remembered his older self, presumably still lying amongst the dead bodies below.  Unable to stand just yet, he instead crawled to the edge and peered through the divide of the plates.  He could only see blackness, the torches in the restricted area having burned out with the blast.

The girl seemed to understand what he was looking for, when she asked, "What happened to him?"

Tears fell for the first time since he'd kissed Lucrecia, a selfish, needy thing, before pushing her away.  He was surprised the tears even knew how to get to his eyes anymore.  "I...  I killed him.  I think."

"He could still be alive?"

"Maybe.  But I shot him in the face."

The girl went silent, leaving him to drown in overwhelming guilt.  His own sobs shredded any trace of happiness in him.  Sephiroth was alive.  Surely the older Vincent wouldn't have done what he'd done had he known that fact.  Surely the gunman could have been brought back to sanity with the proof.  He hadn't even given the man a chance to come back.  He closed his eyes at the memory of insane, fury driven eyes, as every part of him tensed.  It was a nightmare he'd never forget, because he knew one day that could be him.  The stirrings of Chaos seemed to agree.

"Vincent...  Let me make sure.  If nothing else, we can give him a proper burial."

Wiping at tears, he turned his head to look at the teenager, amazed by her calmness.  Someone so young shouldn't have been so calm and collected in face of so much death and destruction.  His older self had told him before that, one day, this girl would have sacrificed herself to save the world.  He completely believed it. 

The teenager stood and smiled slightly.

"Aeris, don't -"

She turned to her mother.  "Don't worry.  We'll be back."  She reached down, grabbed the rifle, and offered it to Vincent.  "Let's go."

With her reassuring smile, he transformed, grabbed her about the waist, and flew back down into darkness.  When he let her go, she looked around at the traces of death.

"So many..."  She rubbed her arms.  "But I prayed for them when they left their bodies.  Don't worry.  They found their way home to the planet."  She stepped to the only nearly whole body in the area.  She knelt down and touched his chest.  "We can bury him next to Cloud in my garden.  Is that okay?"

He didn't know who Cloud was, but the girl clearly seemed to think it meant something.  So he nodded, saying, "I'm sure he'd want it that way."

She smiled and stood back up.  He picked up 'his' body, and they started walking. 

"Your mother?"

"She'll be all right, if we hurry.  She always worries anyway, no matter how long I'm gone."

Vincent nodded and walked back the way they'd originally come.  Within an hour, his older self's body was buried.  Aeris hummed softly as she finished smoothing the dirt and then smiled up at him. 

He smiled back weakly, so glad for her presence.  "Let's go back to them.  We still need to get you out of the city."

Her smile left as she stood.  She scrutinized him for a moment, and then asked, "I know it was him who offered, but could you take me to Nibelheim?"

Vincent didn't know the reasons behind it, could only guess, but he said, "Of course.  You and your mother?"

"If you could?"

"I'll make sure it happens."  He looked away from her, back to the two graves, and murmured, "Thank you, Aeris.  If you weren't here..."

He could feel her eyes on him but he couldn't make himself look back.  After a moment, she wrapped her arm around his clawed one and they stood there for several more long minutes before he transformed again and carried her back to her mother.  And to Sephiroth.

The older woman was kneeling at the swordsman's side, and ran her gaze over both of them, before asking the girl, "Are you all right?"

"Yes.  How is he?"

"He hasn't woken, but I think he'll be all right."

Now that Vincent had Sephiroth relatively safe, he didn't know what to do with him.  The SOLDIER clearly had no desire to be near him, as if he ever had.  The idea twisted his insides and for reasons he knew shouldn't have existed, but nonetheless it happened every time he looked at the man, every time he merely thought about him.

Was he to drop him off at ShinRa's doorstep and hope for the best?  Surely that was the best option and what Sephiroth would want.  But he couldn't work up the energy to do it.  Maybe he should just leave him there for someone to find who'd hopefully not tear him apart, since the gunman was sure that if he -did- pick him up, he never go near the tower. It was better to just leave him.  It was.  But he couldn't make himself move.

"We can take him with us."

"He wouldn't want that."  The words were a curse.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes.  Completely.  I'll bring him to the ShinRa building and then I'll be back for you."  

He buried his trepidations deep inside, drawing out Chaos once again instead, and picked up the limp body, putting Masamune on top of his torso.  He flew high up along the middle structure until he came to the top and saw people inside talking by candle light.  He laid the man down, his heart screaming at him the whole time to just run away with him and not put him within reach of the very people who controlled his life, just as they'd controlled Vincent's years before.  But with Sephiroth, from what he knew, he was sure their control over the SOLDIER was far greater.

Laying there, the younger man's face and hair marred with blood, Sephiroth had never before looked so beautiful to him.  He came down onto his knees and caressed the man's cheek with the backs of his fingers, even though he knew the touch would only drive his desire to stay.

"Sephiroth..."

What could he even say?  What was a good goodbye to someone who'd be more than happy to see him leave?

He pressed his lips together and then whispered, "I love you.  I always have.  Even when you were just a baby inside your mother.  I wanted to protect you.  I tried to.  ...But I didn't.  I'm so sorry I didn't."

Slowly, carefully, he bent down and brushed his lips over Sephiroth's, lips his body knew, knowledge that had been taken to the grave, but he himself didn't know.

"Please forgive me," he whispered against them, unwanted tears coming down his cheeks and dripping onto the younger man's face, clearing a path through the dried blood. At that moment, he wanted so much more than he could ever have.

A soft groan rumbled Sephiroth's throat. Vincent pulled away with a jerk.  Crimson eyes raked the younger man's features, looking for awareness, but Sephiroth seemed more caught in a dream than anything else.  And that was a good thing.  Relief warmed him. 

It would be all right.  Even if he couldn’t have everything his greedy heart wanted, surely it would be all right.  The best thing he could do was just walk away and let this man live his life.

He ran his fingers over the chilled skin of his cheek again and smiled.  "Please protect yourself for me."  His sad smile grew.  "I'll be back if you don't, and I'm sure you don't want that."

Vincent forced himself to stand, walked the short distance to the doorway, and rapped on it.  Then he flew off the roof to a short distance away, making sure he'd been heard and that they were taking care of the SOLDIER. 

When they brought him inside and out of his view, wanting pain flooding him, he knew he'd never be able to stay away.  Not completely, even if only in thought.  He never had been able to.  Why would his mind change now?


	27. Dawn of a New Day

When Sephiroth awoke, barely able to open his eyes let alone move, his mind refused to cooperate.  His brain denied him the right to think and feel much of anything through crippling lethargy, which refused to let go and shielded a pain he couldn't pinpoint, probably because it felt like it was everywhere. 

Eventually, disorientated, but realizing familiarity with the feeling, he had to wonder if he'd been drugged again to ensure compliance.  It definitely wouldn't have been the first time.  Imbedded in him from his earliest childhood experiences, perhaps sooner, there were times when he'd see the look in Hojo's eyes and had known what was about to come, and couldn't control his fear and submit.  Would lash out and hurt people.  Yes, he understood the drugging's.  Besides, they kept the pain away, at least temporarily.

In thin clothing and covered by a soft blanket, raking his brain while trying to act like he was still asleep in the darkness, not ready to face the world, the longer he laid there on the squeaky cot the more he remembered: 

He'd been on a mission with a group of troopers, not in the lab with Hojo.  Certainly not with Hojo because the man was dead.  He'd been sent by Tseng to bring Aeris to headquarters.  And he and his team had taken one of the non-operational mechanical garbage chutes down to the slums because it was faster than the stairs, the train being non-operational.  Because Vincent Valentine had destroyed the reactors with his aid and had thrown the city of Midgar into chaos. 

And then what...  Muscles raw as he lifted his arms and ran his fingers through his hair, gripping it, bringing a sharper pain. 

He'd found her.  And Vincent.  And the other Vincent.  And then, with the garbage chute nearly impossible to travel up without proper equipment, especially by untrained civilians, they'd gone to the restricted area, knowing they'd find people there, but not so many.  There hadn't been that many with the last known report. 

And then...  Well, there were only so many ways to get to the upper plates.  But despite the crime and unrest, he'd made a huge misjudgment of people's state of mind.  He should have listened to Vincent and flown the girl, but he'd been too busy trying to deny anything the ex-Turk said at that point, sure the man would only cause more harm.

He remembered the uncontrollable, unbearable accusing screams.  And pain.  So much mind-numbing pain that had come so fast.  His fingers loosened and touched the side of his head, near the back, the single point of damage he could remember clearly.  He didn't know what had hit him, but he was sure one of the people of Midgar had done it.  And, he knew, he'd deserved it for what he'd done, for listening to and believing in a lunatic from the future.

Pushing with shaking arms, biting down nausea, he forced himself to sit up and then shifted his legs until they dropped off the cot.  Head spinning, he sat there for many minutes in the pitch black only illuminated with the soft glow of his eyes, trying to remember anything more.  But after the pain, there was nothing until now.

If he was in this state, had any of them made it?  Had Aeris?  He even wondered about the two Vincent's, although it was more for a solid understanding of the events than anything else. 

At least that was what he forced himself to believe, squashing down emotions that tried to make him believe otherwise. Whatever ludicrous 'feelings' he'd felt and whatever he'd done with Vincent in the last few days, that was over.  It was so over.  None of it had been worth it.  And now he had to pick up all the broken pieces of his life and try to fix his life and countless others. And never let any of it happen again.

And all of this was because he couldn't keep his dick in his pants.  He growled, brushed the blanket off, and stood up on wobbly legs.  Feet almost dragging, he felt along the wall until he made it to the door.  Surprising him, the handle turned.

When the door swung open, the hallway dim with candle light, a chair's feet clattered as a man bolted upright, coming to attention, long raven locks partially concealing his face and reminding Sephiroth too much of a certain person even though otherwise they looked nothing alike.  "Sir, if you could, please remain inside until the physician returns."

"Is that an order?"

The teenager's eyes widened a bit before he cleared his throat.  "Ah, yes, sir.  Director Lazard has stated that you must be cleared before resuming your duty."

"Then he should have locked the door," he said, his voice bland with his efforts elsewhere, his hand shifting to the outer wall to walk out of the patient holding area.  He hated being in this part of the building.  Even just being near set him on edge.  Even the barriers of metal and padding could never completely silence the screams, including his own.

"Ah, sir, please, that's my fault.  I was supposed to lock it when he left.  If you could..." The words drifted away when Sephiroth just kept walking.  The teenager grabbed the candle, shouldered his propped up rifle, and started following, "Sir, your orders are to remain here.  Please return to your cell."

Sephiroth turned his head enough to raise a brow at him.  "Cell?  Am I a prisoner then?"

"No, no, that's not what I meant."

"Look...  whoever you are -"

"Zack Fair, SOLDIER Second Class, sir."

"Whatever."  Turning his full attention back to the front of him before he fell on his face as he stumbled along, he added, "I'm going to my own room.  If they want me, they can find me there."

"But, sir..."  God, the guy was persistent.  The raven-haired man was suddenly rushing forward, grabbing an arm, and putting it over his shoulder, making Sephiroth cringe from a jolt of soreness.  "I'll help you get to your room."

Sephiroth tried to yank his arm away, bringing more pain, but the hand gripping it was stronger than his current weakness which only grew with every step.  He should have stayed on the cot longer.  "Zack, I really don't need your help."

"Don't worry about it."  The younger man huffed.  "They have me just sitting around on my ass anyway while all hell is breaking loose...  I should be down there."

_So should I.  ...So they can have another chance at killing me._

They turned the second corner and headed to the staircase at the far side.  Wanting to be rid of the guy, he said, "Well, if you want to go, go then.  Don't let me stop you."

"Yeah, right.  I'm working for First Class.  There's no way I'm going to get my ass chewed up and handed back to me right now.  It's bad enough you're going to..."  Zack cleared his throat, apparently not ready to verbally attack someone who was his superior, no matter his state.

Sephiroth frowned at the younger man, confused, astounded.  People's, well, certain people's dedication to ShinRa knew no end.  But he was one to talk, literally flying right back into the company's 'loving' arms at the first sign of something going wrong.  Well, a lot going wrong.

Eventually, as they descended staircase after staircase, he was glad the SOLDIER was there to help him.  He wouldn't have made it to his room on his own.  He keyed in the code to open his door, forgetting he didn't need one, and Zack helped him inside, walking with him to the bed.  The teenager helped ease him down, although his head dropping on the pillow was more of a collapse than anything. 

Breathing heavily, covered in sweat, dizzy out of his mind, he still nonetheless noticed the other man's continued presence but his mouth refused to open, not willing to spare the energy.

The last thing he heard was, "Can I get you something to drink or something?" before sleep claimed him.

When he awoke again, the bright sun filtered through the partially drawn the curtains.  Apparently Midgar and himself had survived another night.  Remembering Zack, he looked around and then saw a blonde-haired man, sitting in a far chair, staring at him.  His reclined position improper in face of his superior, Sephiroth worked to sit up, bringing his legs off of the bed.  Thankfully, the dizziness was minimal and his muscles seemed almost fully recovered from whatever had happened.

The other man eyed him and then asked, "Are you all right?"

Nodding once, Sephiroth straightened his back, trying to show the strength that was returning to him thanks to the body Hojo had basically made for him.  Given a meal, he probably would have been fit to fight.

The director sighed and sat forward.  "Sephiroth, your rank has been raised General." 

General?  Days before, the word had put fear into him.  Now, with everything that had happened, it meant next to nothing to him.

"The company would like to show that it has full faith in your commitment to ShinRa and to this city, while helping to squelch any rumors that you had any part in what happened to the reactors."  Sephiroth opened his mouth, but Lazard immediately added, "Whether or not you did.  Stabilization is the most important thing right now, not truth.  And I agree.  This crisis must be resolved and we need your help to do that."

The General could hear the genuine distress under the words.  Lazard was from the slums and this was probably killing him, sitting in this tower, supporting something that didn't deserve support for so many reasons, but at the moment, it was all they had.

"I'll do what needs to be done."

"Good.  In about fifteen minutes they're going to start the generator and start the water pump for thirty minutes.  I advise you to get cleaned up and ready for the day.  When the physician clears you, I would like you on the ground again."

Sephiroth nodded again, suppressing his continued surprise.  The day before, with little to no grief on anyone's part over his temporary defection, he'd been briefed at a meeting that would have gone on longer if Tseng hadn't broken in with his request.  At the name Aeris, Sephiorth had immediately agreed and worked to put a team together to save the girl.  It was a saving he didn't know whether or not had succeeded.

Now, remembering her and wanting answers before he was sent on the ground again as a General, he asked, "Aeris, was she safe?"

Lazard was silent for a second, a second too long.  "We don't know what happened to her, whether or not she survived.  There was an explosion in the slums.  We're still investigating the cause, but it's the sector that Aeris lived, the sector you would have returned from.  We believe there were hundreds outside the restricted area."  The man paused, his face growing a shade whiter. 

"Yes... there were."

Lazard eyed him and then continued.  "We don't know for sure how you survived, if you were even at the explosion.  The people were only bones and ash, or so I heard.  And they found remnants of the troopers' armor.  Did you witness the explosion?"

Sephiroth shook his head.  "No, I was... attacked.  I lost consciousness.  I don't know what happened after we reached the restricted area."

"Is it possible Valentine brought you to the top of the building last night?  Angeal and Genesis informed me that he can transform.  Is this true?  They also said that you..."

Sephiroth barely heard himself say, "Yes."  He was ice cold.  He didn't know what any of it meant, what had happened, and he cursed himself again for falling under the trap of his own stupidity and denial.

"Well, we'll keep that to ourselves for the time being."

"Sir..." The silver-haired man caught himself, not quite believing he was going to say it after his words to Vincent the night before.  But in the end, he saw the truth in them and saving face was less important than saving lives.  "I think it would be best if we opened the gates and let people leave the city.  That would relieve some of the tension."

"Yes, it's been discussed, and we'll be opening the gates later this morning."

"And Valentine, a few nights ago, he said he sent plans for alternative energy to certain people.  Has that been discussed?"

"Yes, I was one of them, although I'm no engineer.  But I suppose Valentine thought I would have some sway in the matter.  Unfortunately, though, my sway is minimal in those kinds of matters.  However, we've been talking about it since this happened.  Well, quarreling might be a better word.  This company's profitability is based on the reactors.  Without them..."

"There has to be a point where it's not just about money."

"I know."  The man pressed his lips together and let himself breathe a couple of breaths through his nose.  "I believe they're working on plans to develop the technology."

For some absurd reason that burst a bit of hope into his battered soul.  Whether or not he believed the ex-Turk about the planet dying, if it was even a possibility, they had to start working on alternatives. "The sooner the better."

"Yes.  With the number of engineers and construction workers in this city, they're thinking they can start on a least a couple of generators using wind power.  After all, the plains around here are made for it.  They're thinking they can supply at least a portion of the city's energy by the time they get one of the reactors going again."

The hope squelched.  "They're going to restart the reactors?"

"Yes, they will."

Sephiroth looked away, trying to breath steadily, but failing, and he didn't want to acknowledge why.

"Sephiroth..."  Their gazes met at the man's tone.  "There's something else.  Tseng, when he returned and gave his report to me about the mission to have you returned, he suggested that there were perhaps two Vincent Valentine's.  Do you know why he'd say that?"

"No."  He didn't know why he lied.  After all, what did it matter if they knew?  It wasn't like they had the technology to time travel.  But, some part of him wanted to keep that information out of ShinRa's hands. 

The air was thick, but he ignored it and refused to say anything more. 

Lazard sighed again.  "Very well.  But remember, Sephiroth, we're on the same side.  We both want peace. In one way or another...  That's what you want, isn't it?"

The General could tell it was a genuine question.  And he answered truthfully with, "It's what I've always wanted."

The blonde man smiled.  "Good."  He stood up.  "I think the showers should be up any minute.  Zack will be outside your door in case you need anything.  Please wait for the physician's okay before you leave your apartment.  I'll be in my office and will be expecting you."

After the man exited, Sephiroth watched the door, left to speculate what had happened the night before.  Because the only person who apparently had answers for him was one he didn't even want to see at that moment, being too afraid of what he'd do if he did see him again.


	28. The Applicant

When the General came out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel low on his hips, his hands working another towel over his hair, Zack was walking to the table on the other side of the room with a tray of what appeared to be a complete, hot breakfast.  The moment their eyes locked, Zack stopped mid-stride.  His jaw edged downwards, but no words came out.  The obvious gawking made silver brows draw in.  The guy was acting like he'd never seen a naked man before.  But maybe he'd just never seen a man who commanded him in that state.

Trying to let the guy off of the hook, Sephiroth said from across the room, "Put it on the table."

The raven-haired man blinked at the words, as if he'd forgotten he was holding something.  Then he looked at the tray for a moment, which confirmed Sephiroth's suspicions, his face tinging with pink, and finally stalked off to the table.

Forcing down a sigh, the older man worked the towel on the ends of silver locks.  Most of the time, he appreciated the distance his rank and fame had gotten him.  It just made things less complicated and more tolerable in a world that wanted to suck him dry. 

Now...  Now he didn't know what was wrong with him.  Well, he had ideas, but they were ones he wished weren't there, simply for the sake of his sanity.  The few days of closeness, with a man he didn't want to name, had again brought out unwelcome cravings for touch that he hadn't felt since being with Cloud, well, outside of the occasional fuck anyway.  But this time, it was so much stronger, bordering a stranglehold of slow death if his betraying body and mind couldn't have what they wanted.

But he didn't want it.  He didn't want him.  He didn't.

He needed time.  Time would help him forget.  Would create a soothing apathy that got him through the worst of times.  Time would... 

Well, in a short time, Vincent would be dead, and then there wouldn't be this problem anymore.  ...And he'd left him.  Without even really saying good bye.  The new realization made him physically sick. 

Sephiroth centered his gaze back on the raven-haired man, teeth gritted, his muscles tense, his body begging him for action.  Zack was staring at him again, silent, his face guarded, but not enough to dispel the obvious interest and growing fear.  And all it had taken to shut Zack up was a naked body.  Had he known it would standstill the younger man's dire need to follow orders, hopefully ranking himself up in the process, he would have stripped in the lab.  Of course, he wouldn't have made it to his apartment without falling over if he hadn't had his crutch.

But now his presence was unwelcome again.  "Thank you. You can go, Zack."

The man continued his stare for a moment longer, his mouth coming open to speak.  But then something seemed to change his mind, and he nodded and stalked out the door.  Sephiroth watched after him for a moment but then, while munching on some toast smeared with strawberry jam, he dressed himself, then brushed out his damp hair which took considerably longer than anything else, finished the rest of the food, and walked out the door as well.

Like the night before, Zack came to attention.  "Sir, the physician should be here any minute.  You should..."  A slight growl gritted the air as the man grabbed his stuff and followed after the General who hadn't slowed down in the least.

When Sephiroth heard his booted feet chasing after him, he said, "You can stop following me, Zack."

"No...  I can't."

That stopped the silver-haired man.  He turned to look at the other man who tensed up at the stare.  "You've been ordered to keep an eye on me?"

"...Yes, I guess."  Zack clearly disliked the assignment as much as Sephiroth already did.

He supposed he should have expected it.  No wonder they hadn't put a normal trooper on him who probably wouldn't have been able to keep up with him, if he did do something unscrupulous.  Although he doubted Zack Fair could fly.  For a moment, he wondered why Genesis or Angeal, more experienced SOLDIERs, hadn't been put on the task, but then he found himself glad they hadn't been.  He wasn't sure if he was ready to face them yet.

Sephiroth eyed his babysitter, considering him and the situation as a whole, but then let a side of his mouth quirk up.  "Come along then."

Zack studied his face briefly, seeming to be a bit surprised with the turnaround, then nodded and was a step behind.

When they arrived at Lazard's office, the man was sitting at his desk and looking over some documents, some remnant of the past that obviously hadn't been in the records rooms at the time Vincent had burnt it up.  Zack stopped near the large, open entrance, his back against the glass, while Sephiroth continued straight up to the older man.

Lazard smiled, looking up from the paperwork.  "Ready to get to work?"

The General nodded.  "Of course."

"Good."  He sat back in the chair and weaved his hands together.  "Before I assign you a squad, we'd like you to induct the new troops."  Sephiroth's brows shot downwards. "Yes, I know.  People are screaming to get out of the city, but that the same time, we've had a surprising number of people looking to join.  And we need the numbers.  The assembly is being held in about four hours, at 13:00 hours.  That should give enough time for the people waiting at the gates to arrive.  While at the assembly, please be on the lookout for anyone you think might be a good addition to the SOLDIER program."

"Until then?"

"Until then, well, we have all troops on twelve hour shifts.  It's going to wear them out fast, both physically and emotionally.  You should reacquaint yourself to them."  Lazard smiled again.  "Let them meet their new General.  As I'm sure you realize, just your presence boosts morale.  And we need morale to get through this."  His head turned to the man who could be seen through the glass wall.  "And take Fair with you.  He's a good fighter and has been showing great courage and potential, especially in leadership.  And people like him."

The General couldn't help pressing his lips together at the idea, stopping any escaping denial.  Like?  That wasn't his opinion on the matter of Zack Fair, but he supposed at another time, if their circumstances for meeting didn't grate on him, he might have liked him.  A strong might.

"So, I'd like to get him more involved with SOLDIER, and I think you'd be the perfect mentor for him.  Assuming..."  Lazard's eyes latched back onto Sephiroth, pursing his lips.  "Assuming you can keep your focus."

"I want this crisis resolved as much as anyone else," the silver-haired man replied, meaning every word.

The Director smiled with a nod and sat forward, fingering the papers he'd been reading.  "Please be at the hall at 12:45."

When he exited the office, Sephiroth glanced at Zack, and said as he kept walking by him, "You're with me."

Zack fell in line with him.  "You guys talked about me?  I heard-"

Sephiroth smiled back at the younger man, stopping the words.  "You apparently have potential."

The four hours went quickly and not quickly enough.  He could maneuver his presence around.  He'd been doing it for years, giving people sturdy nods and the proverbial words of encouragement, all which gave the illusionary feel of a pat on the back or, rather, a pat on the head, allowing the good lapdogs to preen. If anyone disagreed with his presence and new station, and most assuredly some or more did, they didn't say it to his face.  And to his relief, he discovered outside, walking the exit's length, that much of the crowd had dissipated and he had to presume it was from an announcement from ShinRa.  Or perhaps they'd just worn themselves out.

When the appropriate time rolled around, with Zack in tow, he walked back into the ShinRa tower, up staircases, down a side hallway, depositing his weapon in a storage closet, and into the back door of an assembly hall large enough to hold a thousand people comfortably.  At the moment, lit up by the natural light streaming through the windows, it was nearly half full and people kept coming in.  He wasn't sure exactly how he was supposed to spot SOLDIER potential with such a large group of people.  But he'd give it a half-assed effort, he supposed.

While Zack wandered off to talk to the new recruits, leaning fully against a far wall on the stage, the General scanned the crowd through half-closed eyes, almost absentmindedly.  So many faces, male, female, mostly young and impressionable. 

However, it didn't take him long to notice a group of five people that held themselves together, not participating in the chitchat of the gathering.  Pulling his head from against the wall, he scrutinized them with a shot of tension. 

He'd spent over a year in Wutai, destroying strongholds and camps, killing people in the name of ShinRa.  In these people, besides their features, he saw the same kind of rages, fears, and potential to do what it took the keep their homeland to themselves.  He didn't think they were all from Wutai, but Wutai certainly wasn’t the only place with ShinRa haters.

Apparently this whole crisis was making everyone stupid, clumsy, and ill-equipped to deal with what was happening, helped along by the fact that, less than a week before, everyone in Midgar had been comfortable in their lives, self-assured in the suppressment of any resistance to ShinRa's power, that resistance being mostly Wutai.  But that nation was hardly even mentioned anymore with most people thinking the war was pretty much over.  And it was.  But there was still resistance and fight.

There were good reasons to never become complacent, to never indulge and let other people worry about problems.  There were reasons to not name heroes.  Yes, it boosted morale, but it also let people think a problem was someone else's problem until it bit them on the ass.

Sephiroth pushed away from the wall, his anxiety mounting and bringing him to sweat.  

Were people even getting background checks prior to entering the ShinRa building? Then again, how could they be?  Even if the system could be brought online for the event, there was a good possibly that all records had been deleted from the system, if not the whole system itself.  He had no idea what Vincent had deleted, and to be on the safe side, had to presume everything had been.  He should have asked someone, he realized.

He attempted to scan the crowd quickly, to see if there were any more possible pockets, but then stopped.  Several layers of people away from the group, he saw someone he was not supposed to be seeing. 

Why the hell was he seeing him? 

The man was short, barely seen over the crowd.  It was the blonde spikes of hair that gave him away, and then his youthful face when he shifted a nervous eye in his direction.

"What the fuck."

All thoughts on that one spikey head, he propelled himself forward, stalking across and jumping off the stage, shoving through the crowd.  Everyone else was merely an obstacle to getting to him.  He headed directly to a man he'd better have been mistaken about.  But the closer he got, the more he couldn't doubt this teenager was a much younger version of his previous lover.  A man who was now looking at him with huge sky-blue eyes taking in his wrath. 

Cloud tried to back up, but his back met the crowd.

"What the hell are you doing here?!  I told you-"

A gun sounded, the bullet travelling through his bangs.  Damn it all to hell ceremonies and their requirement that he not bring his weapon.  

When his mind clicked onto the fact that everything was about to go to hell, yet again, Sephiroth thrust through the remaining, scattering, panicking, unarmed bodies, swept Cloud up into his arms, not caring how he resisted, and, protecting the teenager with his body, dashed for the door.  The sounds of guns and shouting drowned all hope of hearing anything intelligible.  A bullet plunged into his side, but already heading in that direction, his blood pumping, the force merely threw off his balance a bit. Thankfully, Cloud's position had been near the back of the hall.

Sephiroth was out the door, grabbing a gun from a trooper heading to the room, and sprinted with his cargo to the storage closet he'd left his weapon in.  At it, he more or less dropped the man, who had enough sense to catch himself, his hand jutting to the wall for support.  Sephiroth jerked the door open and shoved the younger man inside to stand among the old equipment and boxes.

"What are you-" the blonde man hollered out at him, but had to stop when Sephiroth slammed a hand over his mouth along with a glower, shoving him against the inner wall.

"Shut up and stay here!  I swear to God, Cloud, if you come out of this closet before I come get you, I'll kill you myself!"

Cloud looked at him with eyes overflowing with fear, anger, and confusion, all mixed together, so that Sephiroth could almost hear the 'Why me?  Why are you saying this to -me-?'

It was a question he didn't want to answer and never would.  Instead, he just wanted to shout at him 'I'm trying to protect you!  Can't you understand that?!' but refused to let the words come.  Instead, he released the boy's mouth, shoved the rifle at him which trembling hand took, walked another step inside, and grabbed Masamune.

"Stay here," he growled, ignoring the blood oozing from his side, leaving the closet.  He slammed the door shut behind him and the doorknob off with the hilt of his blade.   He knew it wouldn't stop him from getting out, but he hoped it would prevent people from getting in.  

Sephiroth could only pray that Cloud would listen and stay put.


End file.
